


Lost in Crowds

by ToodleOfDeeth



Series: Lost in Grass [1]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Backstory, Beginnings, Canon Compliant, Drabble Collection, First Kiss, First Meetings, Gen, Humor, Kid Fic, Light Angst, Link's backstory, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Pre-Calamity, Pre-Canon, Prequel, Sad Ending, Worldbuilding, but you knew that, key word being attempt, only for a little bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-01 14:06:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17245556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToodleOfDeeth/pseuds/ToodleOfDeeth
Summary: Link is born into the world as all children are - on an unsignificant day during unsignificant weather. He is also born to unsignificant parents and for the majority of his early life he is just like them. Although Link is not the smartest or the fastest or the strongest of children, he does have one thing that no one had ever expected of a silmple farm hand.Link, against all odds, is significant. However, at this point in time no one knew that, and so these one-shots detail his life before he was known as a hero. He is Link, no one more.





	1. Beginnings

Outside the small farming settlement a great storm was brewing, as if the lands and Gods themselves were waging war against one another, bringing flurries of sleet and hail onto the world below. One man, dressed only in a thin green tunic and a carrying a lantern on a long metal rod in front of him, climbed up a steep slope with a collection of red potions clutched to his chest. Above him a clap of thunder rung through the air, ringing out like an earthquake that would never touch the ground.

The man eventually managed to get to the settlement, bringing the sleet in with him, and he hurried through the abandoned streets, ignoring how the hanging lanterns seemed to dim around him, and extinguished behind him. Finally after walking through the better half of the settlement the man reached a door and pushed through into the warm glow of a fireplace, but the room was far from peaceful.

Just out of the room, through another door, were the noises of two women. The man took off his sodden cloak, lowered the hood on his coat, and gingerly knocked on the door. One of the voices paused, and there were footsteps leading towards the door before it opened, revealing a Hylian woman dressed in a white apron and gloves, her hair tied back but loose, hand her gloved hands covered in blood. There was disorientated murmuring behind her, no real words being said but still punctuated with groans of pain.

“Here,” The man said, “These were all I could afford. Four and a half minutes each.”

“It’ll do,” the woman said, her southern accent thick, “She’s stable, but still in labour.”

“How long?”

“Anywhere between three and eight hours. Go and get some rest, I’ll call you if I need you.” And with that she softly closed the door, her footsteps carrying the bottles and their contents away.

The man drew back from the door, letting his arms fall to his side as he waited to see if it would open again. But it didn't, so the man, soon to be a father, sat down heavily in the worn wooden chair by the fire to wait.

Three hours passed. The noises in the room over rose drastically and then stopped abruptly, letting the house fall into near silence. The man waited a moment, not daring to turn around in fear of his hopes being untrue. Finally, after what felt like hours, the door opened.

“She’s alive.”

The man turned to register the midwife, “And my child?”

The woman’s eyes crinkled like she was smiling. She said, “Your boy is safe too. I am going to clean now, but she wants to see you.”

 _Son,_ the words echoed through him like Hylia herself was using the woman as a mouthpiece, shaking him to the bone with joy and warmth. He stood, legs shaky like a newborn calf, and followed the woman into the darkened room. The majority of the candles had been moved from their usual positions to the end of the bed, leaving the frail blonde woman leaning against the headboard in near darkness. He approached her, watching as she moved something small wrapped in the cloth in her sleeves, all with the same delicately as someone handling jewellery.

“Please,” She was whispering as the midwife was taking care of the soiled bedding and bloodied bowls of water, “Please. Give him something to wear.” She looked at him with tears in her eyes, her hair tangled and mouth ajar. He breathed in deeply, recognizing the lost look upon her face.

He went to the chest near the bed head, the only one in the room, and he rummaged around for a moment in search of something specific.

“Here it is,” He whispered to her, afraid that raising his voice would awaken the now sleeping child. Outside the rain had become gentler, and it washed against the window as the mother dressed her child.

“We’ll need to get him some new clothes at some point,” She said gently, “I don't want him running around in her dresses.”

“They suit him, though. Blue’s his colour.”

“I’m thinking green.”

“Still. It’s no use having him crawl around in her clothes. They remind me too much of her.”

The midwife stood suddenly, and they both looked to her. She smiled at them, her apron, mask and gloves had been removed now, and she looked just as presentable as ever. “I’ll be over tomorrow morning to check on him and bring the papers for the registry. Try to think of a name before then, and let me know if you need anything.”

“I- thank you, Nyla. How much-”

“For you? Nothing. You paid for the medication for me, so it’s nothing,” She smiled, slinging her medical pack over her shoulder.

“Thank you so much, Nyla. Thank you.”

“No worries.”

And with that Nyla left, leaving the new family behind her as she ventured out into the stormy weather outside. They waited a moment, listening to the door close behind her, and then turned to one another.

“Arn,” She said.

“Medilia,” He said.

“Do you have any ideas about his name?” She asked, holding the boy up in her arms, wearing nothing but a dress and so fast asleep that an earthquake wouldn’t have been able to wake him. Arn held out his hands for him, letting Medilia put him gently into his arms. Their son stirred in his sleep, his tiny hand reaching out without seeing to grasp at Arn’s index finger.

“How about Percy?”

“No, no. Juno?”

“Manako?”

“Loth?”

Arn laughed, “What is with you and four letter names?”

“They're easier to remember. Catchy, even, also harder to shorten.” She looked at her child affectionately, “It also stops the other children from coming up with nicknames.”

Arn smiled knowingly at her, “Like with you, Meddler?”

“Oh please,” She chuckled, “That’s the last thing I need reminding of right now.”

“What _do_ you need?”

She sighed, “Oh I don't know, some sleep, a hot bath, a name for my son, the usual.”

“How about Link?”

“Link?”

“After the heroes of legend. It seems pretty cute.”

“There are hundreds of elderly named after the legendary hero. I don't want my child to remind people of the elderly, Arn.” Madilia laughed, before she seemed to consider it, “Although I do suppose names come and go out of fashion. Who knows, Link might be the new Emma.”

“Or Impa.”

“Or Beedle.”

“So Link.” She settled on. She raised her child out of her husband’s arms again, both hands around his ribs. “Hopefully naming him after the hero will give him luck when winter comes around.”

A serious tone came over them then, watching their son as his vivid blue eyes peeked out from under his thick blonde eyelashes. He gazed at them for a moment, watching them as they watched him, before he burbled out a small stream of snot and shoved a fist into his own mouth. Medilia smiled and ticked him to her breast once more, watching as he buried his head further into her sweat soaked shirt.

“Link. What a beautiful boy he is.”

 

 


	2. Luck

“Mud.” Link said, lifting up a handful of mud and pressing it onto the mound he had spent the last thirty minutes making as his mother hung out the laundry.

“Fleece,” Link said, smearing the mud on the nearest ram, which continued to diligently munch on the meadow, dead to the fact that Link was ruining its most recent bath in the lake.

“Wool,” Link said, rubbing his hands on his jumper, leaving further trails of brown down his front.

Medilia turned away from the washing for a moment, watching her son for a moment as he played around in the mud. She then turned to him fully and sighed. “Oh, Link. Those were clean on this morning! You’re filthy.” Link looked at her and clapped his hands together, but the mud was too viscous to splatter, and instead stuck to his hands and made a little popping sound as they pulled apart. She didn't go to pick him up, however, seeing as he was more than happy playing in the dirt and she had more laundry to hang out. So she rolled her eyes fondly at him and turned away again, swooping down to pick up another bed sheet to dry in the sun.

Arn was at the market, and had been since the day before, selling off the best of their ‘tups’ (or prime breeding stock, usually rams) before the harsh Akkala winter set in and they ran out of essential funds. Medilia had already taken their older male cuccos to the butcher that week, but seeing as the profits were not nearly enough to tide them over, they just had to make sacrifices. Small things went first; spare bowls and plates, silverware was exchanged for tin, and when that wasn't enough their cotton and linen sheets were sold off.

“I’ll teach you to shear a sheep tomorrow, kiddo.” Medilia said, more to herself than anyone else, “Set you to work on the little things, now that you're getting bigger. You really are getting cuddly now, aren’t you? That’s what grandma-ma used to call it anyway.”

There was no noise or gurgle in reply, and she turned around.

“Link?”

No one was there. The wind whistled past Medilia’s ears, ominous and eerie, and she dropped the empty basket. The meadow that was still filled with livestock seemed to be peaceful and quiet, the autumnal leaves shaking free from their branches and settling among the grass. A few blew over the slightly raised ledge near the lake-

“Link!”

Running as fast as her legs would carry her, almost getting caught in her dress as she stumbled up the ledge, she watched the calm water with unblinking tearful eyes, waiting to see movement in the brown peaty water. Here the leaves obscured the surface as well, floating like boats. She rushed toward the lakeside, uncaring when her dress got soaked and stained when she waded out into it. “Link!” She yelled again, her hair coming loose from her bun and sticking to the tears on her cheeks.

There was movement out in the lake, like something underneath was swimming rapidly towards something that Medilia couldn't see, and all of a sudden a silvery blue Zora poked its head free from the deep water. They raised their arms, one of which was empty, but the other was holding what looked like a sodden bundle of cloth. Medilia was wordless, but she still made noise as she waded out further to meet with the Zora, something between a sob and a great yell of anguish, but before she could move into water too deep to stand in the Zora was right by her side.

“Oh Goddesses,” The Zora said, holding the limp boy in her arms, “Hold him, I can resuscitate him.”

She did so, whimpering as the Zora handed him over. The Zora pressed two of her fingers to Link’s chest, and pressed repeatedly and firmly, whispering to herself all the while, “He’ll be good. He’s good,” while still being completely focused on her task at hand. She then leaned in and pressed her head to his chest, listening to his heartbeat, before straightening and continuing with the compressions.

“He’s too young,” Medilia whispered, “I can’t lose another, not so soon.”

Link opened his eyes then, and the Zora pulled back her hand just in time to avoid him spitting up the swallowed lake water up onto her, but Medilia didn't seem to care. With a cry of victory, she pulled her son up to her and buried him under her chin, and Link in his revived state began to cry in earnest.

“Oh thank the Goddess, Link. Thank you so much,” She said, looking at the Zora, who politely smiled back.

Waist deep in the frigid autumn water, her dress stained and her entire being exhausted, Medilia was completely oblivious to all her ailments. Link was alive, and that was all that mattered now. He was alive.

 

//

 

“Thank you, Minnow, thank you so much.”

Now on dry land and Link put safely away in his crib, Medilia and Minnow both stood by the front door talking quietly. The sky was starting to turn dark now, and given the increasing need for protection at night, Medilia gave her one of the few weapons left in the house.

“I understand that it’s not much-”

“Medilia this is _more_ than enough. I’m only taking it because you keep insisting,” Minnow said, a smile across her face as she brandished the small emerald knife, “I didn't even know that emeralds still existed, let alone in Hyrule. Was this from overseas?”

“It was. I never had much use for it, aside from peeling carrots,” She laughed, “I hope you never have to use it for its intended purpose.”

“I hope so too.” Now there was a pause, with the air around them taking on a less sweet tone. Minnow shuffled on her feet for a moment before speaking up again, “How old is he?”

“Link is around a year and a half.”

“That’s still so young! I thought he must have been older considering how well he was doing.”

Medilia’s ears perked up. “He was doing well?”

“Well, yes! If he wasn't then he wouldn't have made it so far out, and I originally thought he knew what he was doing before he started to swim against the current. It goes around that island in the centre, you see. If he had swam out there before now he would have known that all he had to do was wait and he’d have eventually come back around. Your son is very brave. One day he might be a swimmer to rival even us Zoras! Did you teach him?”

Medilia closed her mouth, only just realising that she had been holding it open in shock. “No,” she said, “I don't know how. Neither my husband nor me do. Is it something he could learn naturally?”

Minnow seemed to mull it over for a moment, “I don't see why not. Kiplings- that is to say, child Zoras - can swim from birth, but they are laid as eggs under water. Usually in special containers to deter predators, such as other fish, but regardless. Maybe Hylian children are the same?”

Wordlessly Medilia shrugged.

“Well then, maybe he’s just blessed. If you like, i could come back some time and teach him. He’s only young, i know, but you have access to a contained body of water and you're not too far from Zoras Domain.”

“Please, you have already done enough for us,” She said politely in response, “You don't need to do any of this. I think at this point I’ll be more comfortable with him _out_ of the water.” She laughed.

Minnow laughed too, then settled herself with a sigh. “Well, please consider it. I’ll be back here in a month, and now that I've seen your adorable son I’ll be dying to get a second look! And thank you again for the knife. I am such a klutz leaving my spear behind.”

“It really is no worry. And pop around any time, we’ll be glad to see you!”

“Thank you! Take care!”

 

 


	3. Tragedy

“Dear Hylia,” Link began, his knees already aching from all the kneeling he had been doing today, “Thank you for making the adults treat me better. My father ate all of the stew i made last night, even when I thought the sugar was salt. He said the meat was tender, and told me that one day I could be a great chef.”

Arn stood by the tree in Kakariko village, his eyes cast to the floor in an attempt to not draw attention to himself or his praying son. A few locals bustled about with disregard to them, seeing as neither of them grew up within the natural and social walls of the village. The Sheikah were never kind to outsiders who prayed to their statue, as they saw it as an insult - like attempting to have a strong connection to the Goddess was for them alone, and it was foolish for outsiders to even try. Medilia had been born Sheikah, but moved away as soon as she had met Arn, seeing as marrying outside the village was forbidden in the tribe’s ancient laws. They had stayed overnight, but the morning was no less welcoming, seeing as the sky was smothered with dark clouds with rain imminent. Arn was saving his prayers for when he and Link got home, but it wouldn't hurt to have Link follow in his mother’s footsteps, even if only a little.  

“Thank you for letting Minnow come to dinner too, even if she didn't eat. It was good to see her outside of lessons. I am getting stronger every day. She gave me a pair of opal earrings to help me swim too. Remind me to get something for her birthday in a few days, okay?”

Arn watched a cucco peck around the fire, his own blue eyes reflecting the flames almost perfectly. Like mirrors, he saw fire.

(“Goddess Hylia. Does your cruelty know no bounds? Do you know how much pain you have caused me? My daughter five years ago to a lynel, and now my wife?)

“Thank you for making Hinto’s mother yell at him for pulling my ears. He didn't deserve to not have meals, but hopefully he won't do it again.”

(“Let my son live without pain, Hylia. Let him live peacefully and long. It’s the least you could do.”)

“Thank you for making the sheep produce more milk this past few days. It might not be any more than usual, but it feels like more. Do you drink sheep milk? Its costs less rupees than cows, and it's less sweet, but I like it more. Maybe it’s because I grew up drinking it, because Malo says it tastes bad.”

(“Our only pregnant ewe walked into the lake too. Was that you?”)

“Hylia, I know we speak often, but I have another question that you haven't answered yet. I’m sorry if me asking it annoys you, because when papa says to eat my mushrooms _over and over and over again_ it annoys me. But I really do want to know this, and I am very sorry if you don't want to answer it, but where is mama? She went to the market with our only pig last week and didn't come back, and papa has been weird ever since. Is she ok?”

(“Why did you take Medilia?”)

“Did mama do something bad?”

(“Why did you not take me as well?”)

“Was it because I learned a bad word?”

Finally Arn had heard enough. “Link,” He said, his voice sore from underuse, “We can go back home now.”

Almost as if Link was thankful for being able to leave, he left his kneeling position without a word and turned his back on the small statue, not even saying goodbye to it or the cucco as his father helped him mount the horse first, before sitting astride it too, letting Link sit between his legs. Arn kicked the horse’s side and it turned westward, preparing for the long journey back home.

“Why did we come to Kakariko?” Link asked as their horse pranced down the Saharsa Slope and towards the Wetland Stable.

He had known this question was coming since before they had even set off for the village. Medilia had died several days earlier, and seeing as it was still high summer they couldn't realistically have taken her body to Kakariko to bury her with her parents. But seeing as Link was her child, he was still able to be a part of the village, even if he was only a distant heir and not what they called ‘pure-blood’.

“Your mother was born there. We came so that you could give respects.”

Link was silent for a moment, thinking over the words. “But I can respect mama in person. I love her.”

Arn didn't say anything, his face frozen as he rode behind Link, but for once he was thankful for the rain as it stopped Link from noticing the tears rolling into his hair.


	4. Fear

The wind in Akkala tended to move from east to west, away from the Great Sea and towards Death Mountain, forcing the great plumes of smoke from the active volcano to move westwards, and often slightly north. From what Link heard from travellers, Death Mountain was churning out more ash and fire by the day, and given the increased frequency of earthquakes it wouldn't be long before there was an eruption. At the very least, that was what Borlin said when he came over to drink with papa the night before.

Looking at the mountain now, Link could see what he had meant. He had never seen an eruption of any mountain in Hyrule, not even the infamous Death Mountain, but he had heard about its effects.

Gorons, the race that was born from and resided in rocks, inhabited the volcano for as long as Hylia existed, but even they were not immune to lava. In the event of an eruption the Gorons were supposed to travel further down the mountain side and live within the villages and towns that littered its rocky base. Even their own small two-roomed house was to be used as shelter for an unlucky Goron, although Link had no idea how they would even fit seeing how papa had to duck to get through the front door.

“It won't come to that,” papa had said, “That mountain hasn’t erupted in even my grandparents lifetime. It won't break now.”

But still it smoked and smoked and smoked, even more so than the tavern keep did. And still the world grumbled and growled and grumbled, shifting slightly day in and day out, making the decorative beads in the school rock and books fall off the shelf. Link sniffed, watching as a dragonfly sprung out of the tall grass, and he instantly wondered what would happen if he ate it. He’d probably get yelled at, seeing as he was still not paying attention even after being yelled at.

 

“Oh how the earth growls and growls,  
And how the westward wind does howl,

A Rito’s mighty wings may flap,

And Zora may not see the sky,

But everyone can feel the tap tap tap,

Before the tectonic plates will snap!”

 

Mrs. Crowl finished her poem before she looked expectantly at her group of children sitting in the grass. She stood above them with the smouldering volcano in the background, but she was still the more opposing figure, with her long nose and thick-rimmed glasses. Her class, all Hylian children around the age of nine, watched with varying degrees of attention, but nevertheless watched her. She strutted to the right confidently, her light spring dress bellowing in the wind like it was trying to whisk her away, before she turned to address them again.

“Now, children. Tell me, what is a tectonic plate?”

A few hands instantly rose. She pointed to Wes.

“Slabs of the mantle, like big flat rock- Woah!” Wes yelled, suddenly, and leapt up to point at the guardhouse near the Citadel.

There, like Link’s daydream was destiny, was a group of Gorons talking with the guards. There were around four or five of them, all heavily armed, and one dressed in the royal blue reserved only for the most important citizens of Hyrule. They stood roughly two foot above the guards, not because of them being on the higher part of the slope towards the tower, but because they were just so tall.

Like the snapping of one’s fingers, the children dispersed through the field and ran towards the Citadel, all cheering and yelling and ignoring the angry shouting of Mrs. Crowl. For may of them it was the first time they had ever seen a Goron, for none of them were fireproof enough to climb the mountain, and very few of the Gorons had enough resolve to endure the wet weather of the Akkala lowlands. Link, included in the mob of children, snatched up a stick from the grass as he ran, yelling and shouting with the others as they rushed to meet these talked about warriors.

The guards of the gatehouse turned to look, as did the Gorons, but the one wearing the royal colours dropped his weapon at the sight of the children and instead leaned down with open arms and a big smile. They came from the grass like insects and swarmed towards them, all with equally as big grins and arms stretched just as wide.

“Woah! I didn't realise kids grew from grass around here!” the royal Goron said, picking up a lucky few kids who got closest. He pulled them upwards, careful not to crush them against his chest, and the other Gorons around him went to do the same, letting the children play with their hands or admire their reflections in their clubs. Mrs. Crowl came to the path now too, face red from exhaustion.

“I am so sorry about this,” She said, “I didn't know they would all take off like that-”

“Oh don't worry about it, brother,” One of the other Gorons said, “We get this all the time down the mountain. It’s like a warm welcome, but this time with less lava.”

“It’s nice to see so many smiling faces. Especially given the circumstances,” Said another.

Mrs. Crowl said nothing more, still recovering from her sprint after the children, so instead of intervening with the Gorons that manhandled the exited children, she edged closer to the guards. “I am sorry about this,” She said, all of a sudden shy, “I hope I didn't interrupt something important.”

“Naw,” The closer guard said, her north-western accent thicker than soup, “They’re here for business but were about to leave. Were just organising their next visit.”

Link did not approach the Gorons as enthusiastically as the other children did, instead hanging back in the grass and waiting for the bigger kids to get in front first before he could weasel his way in. Such was the issue with being short, he supposed, as he got hugs last. A shame considering his enjoyment of them, but still something he had to deal with. He flicked his ear, still fidgeting with the sensitive piercing and willing the pain to ease.

He turned from the other children, looking out toward the field where they had come from instead and watching the dragonflies once more, thinking again of their crunch and cooling flavour. At least, he assumed they’d be cooling due to their blue colouring. One of them landed on a blade of grass further out, and just as Link turned to look away it disappeared in a flash of colour.

Tilting his head, he turned toward the field more fully and gripped the stick like it was a blade. One of the children yelled with laughter behind him, but Link still didn't look away. The grass moved in the wind, but one section didn't, almost like there was something hiding _in_ the grass waiting for him to take a step closer.

In the split moment where Link raised his arm a horrible croaking noise came from the grass, but Link did not see what rushed forward. His stick made contact with a solid object, thwacking it straight across from left to right.

“Link!”

The green lizalfos went limp and scooted back a few feet, but it was enough time for the blue-clad Goron to spring into action and garb his club. The other children screamed and ran towards the guards, but Link was frozen in place. The lizalfos reared up again, preparing to attack Link now that his stick had broken across the thing’s face, but he didn't back down. Crouched low, Link still grasped the other half of the stick like the hilt to a blade, and he stared the thing down. It hissed at him, and Link growled back, but just as the thing pulled back to strike again--

_WHAM!_

It went flying! With his massive rock smasher the blue Goron stood behind Link, still in a defensive pose after sending the thing to the heavens, and Link finally had the idea to look towards the other warriors. Mrs. Crowl instantly dived forwards to Link, wrapping him in her embrace. She let out a sob, but then instantly her demeanor changed. “ _What were you thinking!”_ She yelled and shook him, “You could have died, Link!”

Link said nothing in lieu of opening and closing his mouth. He blinked a few times at her, but still couldn’t come to words. He looked to the royal Goron for help.

He seemed awkward, still holding his weapon as he rubbed the back of his head in what could only be called embarrassment. He went to rest his hand on Mrs. Crowl’s shoulder, which seemed to snap her back to reality.

“What Link did was dumb, yeah, but if he wasn't carrying that stick then that lizalfos would have taken a chunk out of his face. When it comes down to it, he did the right thing in fighting back.”

Link looked to the Goron again, smiling at him, and the Goron smiled back.

“You’ve got courage, kiddo. Have you fought those things before?”

He shook his head.

“Well if you're unlucky then maybe one day you will. It might be worth getting a bit of practice.”

The guards came forward, finally getting the other children to let go of the grooves in their armour. “We haven't had a lizalfos get that close to the Citadel before. Those things aren't common in Akkala.”

“They sure are on the mountain, although not usually green. It might have followed us from Cephla Lake, I guess. That’s the only place I saw them.”

The two guards looked to one another, and then to the Goron. “We’ll keep an eye out for them, Mr. Daruk. Hyrule seems to be getting more dangerous with each passing day. Thank you for stepping in back there.”

Daruk smiled at them, before putting his finger into Link’s awaiting hand, “It’s fine, brothers. I’ll protect anyone who needs saving.”


	5. Strangers

“I put that shirt on you less than five minutes ago, Link, how did you get stuff down it already?” His father asked, wiping furiously at the grass stain with a damp cloth, “I would get you to wear your blue one if you hadn't already thrown it in the moat.”

Link huffed, his cheeks red as the guard nearby watched Arn fuss over what used to be his only clean shirt.

“My boomerang went in the river,” Link said as reasoning, still holding the offending item.

“It’s a moat, not a river. And I told you to leave that thing at home. When I’m with you I can protect us both.”

“But pa-!”

“No buts! You knew we were coming to the castle. Everyone here has weapons. You're safe.”

Arn reached up and grabbed Link’s chin with one hand, turning his boy’s face this way and that to see if there were any other marks or stains. He then licked the thumb on his other hand and wiped at Link’s cheek, which groaned.

“And besides, if any lizards sneak into the castle you are never far from help. I’m still nearby, even if you can't see me.”

“I’m not scared of lizards anymore, papa.”

“Maybe not, but I sure am, and I’m not letting any of them near to you. Now stay here with Jasper. He’s going to watch over you.”

“I don't need to be watched over! I’m ten!”

“He’s just going to make sure that you don't get seen by any nobility while I'm at the assessment. Be good for me, alright?”

“Is that why we’re here? You're taking a spelling test?”

“Not that kind of test. Now stay here, I’ll be back before sundown and then we can get dinner at the tavern in Castle Town.”

With that Arn left Link in the castle gardens. The guard, Jasper, smiled at Link but he could hardly see it over the gleam of his armour. It was noon at the castle, and although the gardens surrounding them were beautiful it was the last thing on Link’s mind. His boomerang, now safely tucked into his trousers, burned a hole in his pocket. Link continued to look at Jasper, but Jasper turned away and stared into the distance. There was a moment where neither of them did anything, leaving Link to sit on the floor and do nothing. Then he got up.

“I’m going exploring,” Link said, defiant.

Jasper shrugged. “Okay,” He said, “Just don't go near the goddess statue or the pond. And don't speak to anyone!”

Link was already out of earshot, however, as he raced around a shrubbery and through a rose-covered archway. _Finally_ Link was able to do what he wanted; climb trees, turn over rocks, eat things that he probably shouldn't. It was like the first time he went out with their horse Igna to buy radishes - responsible and alone, brave and courageous, able to make both terrible and amazing decisions at once! It was head spinning in a way, the amount of things that he and he alone could choose to do or not do.

He stopped running for a moment, breathing heavily in the sweltering afternoon air, and he paused to re-tie his hair back as some of it had come loose in his excitement. He held his hair tie in his teeth as he worked on pulling most of it back, but some towards the front still remained. In that very moment Link was deciding his next moves, and he eyed the two paths ahead with great excitement. One lead right and the other left, but neither revealed to him what was just around the corner.

He took his boomerang then and eyed it, watching his skewed reflection in its metal centre before he made his decision: the boomerang would decide for him. Rearing back, Link took aim directly in front of him and closed one eye in the hopes of having a straighter throw. With a yell he threw himself and the boomerang forwards, overbalancing but still throwing, and he watched from the floor as it arced and spiralled over the wall.

He waited.

And waited.

And waited for a moment longer.

But the boomerang didn't come back.

He waited for a moment more, almost like he could kid himself that it was just a longer arc than normal, a stronger throw, or that he hadn't just thrown away the only birthday present that he had gotten that year.

He thought back to what Hinto had said when he ruined the white boots that his mother had got him. It was a very versatile word, one that Link daren’t use under circumstances that weren’t of the direst kind, but right now it felt apt.

“Fuck.”

He also thought back to what Miso had said when her dog got lost in the village.

“When something is lost, go find it.”

So Link picked himself up and attempted with half success to leave his worry behind, and instead of turning into the left or right into the obvious paths, he instead did the less obvious thing and clambered up the ivy on the wall directly ahead of him. It wasn't easy, seeing as it was the first time he had climbed ivy, and ivy wasn't the strongest of plants out there, but Link himself was a strong boy and he knew that strong men didn't give up. It was only a logical progression to assume that in order to be a strong man he had to first be a strong boy.

So up the wall he went, trying not to alert Jasper to his shenanigans.

Eventually, after what was only around a minute, Link reached the top of the wall and looked down onto the carefully sculpted gardens below him. Roses and silent princesses and daffodils and lavender, amaranth and wisteria and sunflowers and water lilies, fleet lotus and violets and butterflies and bees. It was _beautiful._ He didn't even know so many flowers could exist, let alone so many could be in one place.

He carefully climbed down the wall on the other side, avoiding the wisteria flowers as he used its branches. In a place such as this it felt fitting for him to be completely silent, especially considering the little pond that was nearby. He saw a frog poke its eyes out, and he crouched down so that it didn't get scared and sprint away. It wasn't often that he saw frogs in Akkala, but this red one looked like it was in its natural environment among the lilies. From under his bush, Link could see clearly how it looked around a little calmly before ducking back under into its hideout.

He licked his lips and began to observe his surroundings a little more, no longer focusing on the disappearing frog. He looked to the ornamental bushes and saw that they were too thick for his boomerang to have gotten inside, then to the lavender that he would have been able to see it in clearly if it had been there, before turning his gaze to the great horse chestnut tree further down the garden near to the goddess statue. Link’s eyes went wide.

Just before the goddess statue was a girl praying, possibly around the same age as him and with equally as blonde hair. Although Link could see the girl’s hair, most of it was covered by a silk headpiece that had little opals sewn into it. The girl was diligent, not even flinching as a sparrow came and landed on the statue. It twittered a little, then noticed Link and flew away.

The girl didn't move.

It was incredibly difficult for him to look away from the girl, seeing as the blue from her gown was so bright and eye catching, but eventually Link used all of his willpower to pull his gaze away.

A glint in the tree instead caught his eye- low and behold there was his boomerang, stuck on a thick low branch and actually rather close to where the girl was kneeling. Link sniffed, then realised that he had made a noise and covered his mouth and nose with both hands. He stared at the girl, waiting for her to turn around and glare at him for disturbing her. She didn't.

Carefully, almost soundlessly, Link crawled across the back of the walled garden and crossed to the opposite side to where he had climbed over the wall, so that he was now on the side with the tree.

As quietly as he could, Link began to approach the tree. It was odd being in the company of someone so beautiful that he couldn't talk to, partly because of Jasper’s warning but also because the sight of her made his throat close up. Truth be told, if Link could have found the words then there would have been nothing stopping him from approaching her, aside from her being so obviously deep in prayer. It was bad luck to talk to someone when in practice, after all.

He paused once he had reached the base of the tree and tried to make it so that the girl wouldn't be able to see him as he climbed, forcing his body in between the wall and the trunk. Link might not have been the greatest at climbing, but he definitely wasn't the worst, and so it only took him a moment to reach the low branch that his boomerang was resting on. He reached for it, his stomach flat against the branch and eyes focusing on the girl below, making sure that she hadn't noticed him.

Finally, after ten minutes of terror, his trusty boomerang was back in his hands where it belonged. He smiled in satisfaction to himself as he admired his own reflection in the metal centre, but that smile slipped off his face.

Link screamed, his voice echoing out like a siren and the girl below him squeaked in shock. In a moment Link was on the floor, his boomerang landing safely nearby, but he himself was on the move, crawling away from where he landed as he reached to his own back. The girl pressed herself against the far wall, watching as Link pulled at his shirt.

“Get it off! Get it off!” he yelled, before his hand grasped firmly at a scaled and wriggling form. With all the might he could muster he took the squirming body in one hand and launched it towards the pond, not focusing on how the little lizard’s flailing body fell into the water.

Link rolled around in the grass for a moment in an attempt to get the feeling of the lizard off him and his memory, face pulled back in a grimace all the while.

The girl, still watching him, approached.

“Are you quite alright?” She asked, her voice as soft as pampas grass and as caring as any mother could hope to be. She didn't crouch down next to him, instead opting to stand and bend over slightly to examine him, but still her silvery blue eyes expressed great worry.

Link looked up at her and felt his eyes go wide at the sight of her, his heart skipping a beat. “Woah,” He said at first, perhaps from the concussion he had inevitably gained from falling from the tree, but he recovered from it quickly and pulled himself up into a sitting position. “I’m fine.” He said, annoyed, “I just got in a fight with a lizard, that’s all.”

The girl looked confused, “Lizards don't fight.”

Something about the matter of fact way she said it made him frown. “They _do,”_ He insisted, “Or at least the big ones do, anyway.”

“That one you just threw was pretty big, I suppose.”

“No, bigger! I fought one that was bigger than my papa one time! If I hadn’t been carrying a stick the thing would have eaten my face.”

She looked impressed, “How tall is your father? _My_ father says I’m tall for my age. Would it have been taller than me?”

Link nodded vigorously as he stood up, noticing how she was in fact a few centimetres taller than him. “Yeah, bigger.”

She pointed to the heather bush, “Taller than that?” He nodded. “Taller than the statue?” He nodded. “Taller than the tree?”

He shook his head. “Smaller.”

The girl let out a sigh of relief. “That’s good. The head of the guards was telling my own father about a ghastly beast that stood taller than even a Goron, had one beastly eye and even ate one of their men! From the sounds of it the lizard wouldn't stand a fight against one of those.”

Link was shocked. “I didn't realise there was anything bigger than a Goron. Any living thing, at least.”

“And I didn't realise there was anything _uglier_ than a Goron, either!”

“No! Gorons are cute!”

“No! One came to meet with my father who was covered in wiry hair! He was awful.”

“Mr. Daruk is a cute Goron, just wait until you meet him. He helped me fight the lizard.”

She squinted her eyes at him, almost like she was trying to see if he was actually telling the truth about his lizard story. “What is your name?” She asked slowly.

Link blinked at her for a moment, obviously confused by her sudden change in conversation. Perhaps wisely, Link wasn't the type of child to give away any information on a whim, and so he paused for a moment before he gave the girl an answer. He watched her as closely as she was watching him, looking for any signs of an untrustworthy individual underneath. “I’m Arn,” Link lied, watching her as she processed the information, and then he asked, “Why?”

The girl seemed satisfied with the answer. “Oh, my father was just looking for someone of my age with a different name. I was making sure he wasn't you. Are you here alone, Arn?”

“My papa is talking to the guards about something.”

“And your father’s name is...?”

Link paused again, before blurting, “Link.”

The girl all of a sudden lit up like a firework, “Link?” She repeated, ecstatic, “Your father’s name is Link?”

He felt like he’d all of a sudden made a huge error, but he nodded for lack of anything else to say.

“Oh! That’s wonderful news! How old is he? Is he handsome? My father has been looking for a man named Link for a very long time, since he was my age, I can't believe he just walked into the castle like that! And I expected someone younger too. Is he around twenty? Twenty-five?”

He couldn't stay quiet and he cut off her rambling as soon as he could, “Why is a man called Link important?”

The girl looked at him, shocked. “Have you never heard of the heroes of legend? The Hero of Time? The Hero of Twilight? Of the Sky?”

Link was obviously confused, “I know of them, but why is a man called Link connected?”

“Well,” She began in earnest, dragging him to the floor so they could sit in the grass together. Link looked around them in search of any more scaled beasts but saw none, and once he had deemed it safe he joined her on the floor. “These heroes of legend all share the name ‘Link’. My father believes that the evil of these legends is due to be revived soon, and it's always a man called Link that helps defend against the darkness. He does it with a woman called Zelda.”

“Now, my mother, or the Queen of Hyrule, is called Zelda, so in the case of the darkness returning its important for her to be able to seal it away, but she can't do that unless the darkness is weakened. That’s why she needs the hero to come in and battle it. She’s going to act as the banisher!”

She paused for what could only be assumed to be dramatic effect, but Link didn't reply. His face was a ghostly white, all colour from his complexion gone from her tale. He looked her in the eye and said, “What’s your name?”

“I’m Princess Zelda. The daughters from our family are always called that and I am no exception.”

“Can you do the magic?”

“No, but my mother said she’ll teach me when I turn fifteen.”

He looked to the grass to avoid looking into her deep and sincere eyes. His hands couldn't stop shaking.

“What’s wrong, Arn?” She asked, placing her delicate little hand on his arm.

“I… I have to go.”

“What? We were just talking, did I scare you?”

“No, I- I just have to go. My papa will be back soon-”

“Oh! Can I come meet him? I’ll go get my mother-”

“No! We’re supposed to be leaving soon, I forgot! I really need to go right now!”

Link shrugged Zelda’s hand off him and he snatched up his boomerang, but before he could sprint to the wall he’d climbed over originally, Zelda stood in his path. She grabbed his sleeve and held him steady. “This is a thank you,” She said, her features filled with determination, before she leaned down and planted the sweetest kiss she could onto his lips.

Link reeled back as far as he could in her embrace, refusing to let her lips get near his again, and he pretended to retch. “Gross!” He yelled, “I don't want that!”

She laughed at him and squeezed tighter; placing more kisses to any patch of skin she could reach. Then she let him go, watching him as he scampered over the wall with his boomerang and his pride still in hand. “Thank you, Arn! I hope we'll see one another again some day!”

Link wasn't listening; too busy sprinting back to where he last saw Jasper at his post. He skidded around the corner, boomerang in hand, and came face to face with his father.

“Where in Hyrule have you been?” He asked, impatient. “I’ve been calling your name for the past fifteen minutes. And why are you holding your boomerang? I told you not to throw that thing in the castle-”

“Let’s go.”

Arn paused his rant. “What?”

“Papa, let’s GO! I want to go to the arrow shop in Castle Town before it shuts.” Link said, thinking on his feet to get them out of there faster. Arn blinked at him, shocked at his son’s outburst, but didn't question him.

“Alright, but as soon as we get to the inn you're going to tell me what got you so up in arms. If you broke a window and anyone asks, it wasn't you.”

Link nodded, grabbing a hold of his father's hand and dragging them off. He shoved his boomerang into Arn’s bag as well, just in case he was tempted to throw it into the gardens again.

 

//

 

“Are you going to tell me what your hasty retreat was then, Link?” Arn asked as he took off his boots for the night.

Link was already in bed, lying atop the covers in the sticky summer air. His hair, brushed and braided, was laying on his shoulders in the same way Zelda’s had been earlier, but try as Link might he couldn't stop thinking about the weight of her arms around him. There was no use lying to Arn, for his father always saw through the thinly veiled sentences that Link or others told him. The side effect to telling the truth was also being able to see it, or lack thereof.

“I saw someone in the gardens.” He stated, not quite telling the whole story.

Arn raised an eyebrow at him. “Anything else you want to tell me there, bud?”

He squeezed his eyes shut, as if forcing them together would instantly put him to sleep, but his father was not so easily dissuaded.

“Bud?”

“There was a girl.”

“Mm-hmm?”

“She saw me.”

“Oh no.”

“And when she asked me who I was I said my name was Arn.”

“A wise move there. Don't ever tell strangers your personal information.”

“I know, papa.”

“And then?”

“She asked me why I was there. I said that my papa was speaking to someone. She asked who you were, and I said Link.”

“Cool switch up. I like it.”

“Thanks. She then got really excited.”

“Oh?” Arn said, sounding confused.

“Yeah, and she said that her own papa had been looking for someone called Link for a long time. She said that people called Link were always heroes who fought against evil.”

“Like the lizalfos.”

Link made a noise, “Don't mention the lizards.”

“Sorry.”

“And then she wanted to meet _you._ But I ran away.”

“Huh. Do you know how old this girl was?”

“Maybe my age, but taller.”

“It’s not hard to be taller than you, bud.”

“Hey, that’s mean. But yeah. She said her name was Zelda.”

Arn leant up suddenly and looked at him like he’d only just realised he was in the room. “Zelda?” He said, quietly, “Like the royal name, Zelda? Like the queen of Hyrule, Zelda?”

“Yeah, she said her name was Princess Zelda.”

He started to laugh, “Oh bud,” He said, “I can't believe it. I knew you had failed your ‘important people’ test in school when you were younger, but I didn't realise you were _that_ bad.”

Link felt like he was being left out of a joke. “What, what?” He said, “What’s wrong with being called Zelda?”

“Oh nothing,” He said, still chuckling, “But it’s just typical, isn't it? The one person in the kingdom that doesn't know who the royal family are just so happens to meet one of them.” 


	6. Hero

For the next year Link told himself repeatedly that what he was doing with his life was _not_ something that the Hero of Time or Twilight or Sky would do. They wouldn't ride down hills on pot lids so he did.

Although shield surfing tended to work better on snow or some other loose substance, it still worked perfectly fine on the grass hills surrounding his home, and his friends also seemed to agree.

“You sure this is a good idea?” Flick asked again, standing atop Kaepora pass together as they waited for the merchant and his donkey to pass them. The last time they did this they hadn’t waited and Missie ended up with a black eye for her troubles - an experience none of them were keen to repeat.

“If we go down from here we’ll be able to get all the way to the bridge. May even further!” Missie said, one of her eyes still boasting the yellow skin from her bruse.

“I still think we should have started up at that research lab place,” Link said.

“No way, man! That kooky guy up there yelled at me last time.”

“Still,” Link shrugged, “No use thinking about it now.”

The merchant nodded to them as he passed, although he wasn't quite smiling, possibly because he recognised them as the kids from last time. Link nodded back, but Flick and Missie were too busy preparing for their descent.

“Wow, Flick, where did you get that shield?”

“You know how my ma is a guard up at the Citadel?”

“Did she really let you take it?”

“No, I stole it.”

“Flick!”

“What? She uses a spear anyway, so it's not like she’s gonna use it.”

Missie pulled her own shield up from the floor and brandished it smugly. “I got this baby from my uncle. A fisherman’s shield is guaranteed to give me smooth sailing, right? What have you got, Link?”

Link smiled at them, holding up his own shield before stating, “I picked this up last time my papa and I went out Akkala. It’s apparently called a emblazoned shield. Weird name, but it seems sturdy enough. I got two.”

“And besides,” He continued, “I actually _paid_ for mine. Unlike some people.”

“Hey!”

He chuckled, but put his own shield down on the slope next to theirs.

“We ready?” Flick asked, and they both nodded.

With a steady kick they were off sliding down the hill, the air thick with winter fog but still just as fresh as any other day. The moisture that stuck to every blade of grass or piece of gravel aided their descent, and as Link crouched on his shield he swooped past Missie who used to be in first place, whooping at her disgruntled cry. Behind them all Flick was laughing, attempting to keep balance as he hit a rocky section.

Crouching on her own board now, Missie picked up speed and was steadily gaining on Link, determination clear on her face and ignorant to the fact that the bottom of her coat was dragging along the floor behind her and getting covered in mud.

Approaching the bottom of the slope, Link picked up his shield and spun around in the air, landing poorly and almost overbalancing, but still smiling. He grinded to a halt at the bottom of the slope before turning back to look, just in time for Missie to twist her own shield around to avoid barging right into him. Flick, however, was not so skilled.

 

The heroes of Time and Twilight and Sky also wouldn't know how to cook, so that’s another thing that Link learned and enjoyed doing. Although this time the skill didn't come from directly opposing the heroes, but out of necessity, seeing as his father rarely had the time to anymore with all of his meetings at the Citadel. Despite the added responsibilities since his father’s new position, Link was still a twelve year old boy, so being alone for so long throughout the day gave him plenty of opportunities to do totally the wrong things, like trying the grass that the goats would usually eat to see why they enjoyed it, or cutting vegetables with a weird blue sword that he found in the woods, or throwing a pumpkin at the fence to see if he could get it to land on the spike and stay on. His father being away also left Link with the majority of the not-so-fun homely duties, much to his dismay.

“The hero of Time wouldn't do laundry.” His father reminded him when Link threw the washing board into the lake for the third time that month.

“The hero of Twilight wouldn't care for livestock.” His father stated when he was going to leave the house at dawn, ready for another day of gruelling work. Link didn't really know what his father even did at the Citadel, but what he did know was that when his father went up there he got paid, and since their livestock wasn't enough to bring in money anymore it was probably a good thing too. Keeping cuccos and goats still had its advantages, however, since they could eat or wear what they produced. Still, Link outright groaned as his father said it, tempted to dunk his head into the sink if it meant getting away from his duties.

“The hero of Sky wouldn't know how to hunt. Or, well, at least not know how to hunt deer. Bokoblins, maybe.”

Now, as stated before Akkala was renowned all over Hyrule for its often unpredictable and harsh weather, experiencing gale-force winds, torrential downpours, and endless weeks of snow. As it was winter, Link bundled himself up in what few winter clothes he had and picked up his bow and quiver, and taking his father’s thinly veiled command he geared up their horse, and ventured into the winter air outside. In a moment of impulse Link also picked up the pitchfork that leant against the stable, tying it to the saddle.

Thankfully the snow had stopped falling, allowing Link to see clearly as he and the horse wandered over to the forest area nearby. He didn't expect to catch anything immediately, so instead of waiting around in one spot he instead took a less travelled route, one that may potentially have more deer on it seeing as there were less travellers. He pulled his scarf further up his face, over his nose and mouth to conceal his breath and to hopefully keep the warmth he exhaled close to him. His eyes, squinted and calm, looked over the forest for signs of movement, just waiting for a deer or boar or even a heron to pop out of the snow.

His ear twitched and he tilted his head, listening for noises behind him.

Just as quickly as the noise came Link drew his bow and shot the thing, hitting it in the chest. The heron dropped to the floor, dead, and Link dismounted his horse to wade through the snow towards it. He plucked his arrow from its wing and returned to his horse, slingng the heron onto the saddle for a moment as he put the arrow back into the quiver, sniffling as he did.

“Somebody help me!”

Link startled, as did the horse, and he ducked down slightly as he looked all around him. He saw nothing, but now that he wasn't invested in tying the bird up he could hear something from just over a snow bank. Taking the time to untie the pitchfork, Link also drew his bow one again and armed it, before sneaking around a few trees to see what was happening.

There, a mere few feet away, a woman lay unconscious with a red bokoblin jumping over her. Link didn't hesitate in pulling the string back on his bow and aiming straight for the creature’s face.

If it hadn't seen him before, it certainly had now. With it’s crude club in hand the bokoblin came at Link, trudging through the snow with its lips pulled back in a horrible sneer. Link remained calm though, putting away his bow in favour of his pitchfork.

_Wham!_

The club came down on Link but he didn't falter, putting up the handle of the fork to stop the blow. He kicked the bokoblin in the stomach and it fell backwards, and Link saw his opportunity. He pulled back, letting the pitchfork slide through his gloved fingers into a stabbing pose before he leaped, threw the fork forwards, and impaled the thing on the end of the fork’s harsh spikes.

It’s body arched away from the spikes, but the bokoblin didn't move its weapon, instead slumping as it went dead behind the eyes.

Breathing heavily, Link left the pitchfork where it was and rushed towards the woman, who was just waking up.

“Oh my head,” She said, eyes unfocused, and she let Link help her up into a sitting position. Her own sword was nearby, and her shield still attached to her arm, but both were heavily dented and old. Based not only on her poor choice of shoes but also the slight accent, it was obvious that she want from around here.

“Are you okay?” Link asked, attempting to read her thoughts through her features.

“I’m okay,” She affirmed, “Just a little shook. Man am I glad you were lurking in the shadows over there, or else I would have made that thing’s stew.”

Although Link’s face was still covered, it was obvious that he was smiling. “It’s no worry.” He said, leaning back to give her some space.

She looked at him and smiled back. “But seriously, thank you. Here,” She rummaged in her pockets, “It’s not much, but I hope it's enough.”

Link put out his hand, not quite sure what he was being given, and she put it into his palm. There, in the centre of his hand and smaller than his fingernail, were two tiny pieces of opal, their rainbow colours reflecting the light in all sorts of directions in his hand. “I’m not sure what type of gemstone they are, or if they're even worth something, but I hope their aesthetics are enough of a reward in and of themselves.

Link was speechless. “I-” He started, but the words got caught in his throat, “I don't think I've ever owned something like this,” He said, then looked at her. “This is too much, I-”

“You saved my _life,_ man! Please take them, or else I’ll feel guilty.”

He swallowed around the lump in his throat and nodded.

 

//

 

Two weeks later, Link boasted a pair of small opal earrings that glittered and gleamed in the sun. Missie said it made him look like a woman, along with his long and braided hair, but it also made Flick say that he was beautiful, so it wasn't all bad. Admiring his own appearance in the mirror, holding up his hand to gently cup one of them in his fingers, he wondered what it would be like to own and wear jewellery more often. He hoped one day he might find out.


	7. On the Run

“I’m sorry I couldn't help you with the unpacking, bud. That’s the issue with moving closer to work, you know? Less time off. Or at least for me.”

“It’s alright,” Link said, pouring the soup into the only wooden bowls he had managed to find so far.

Almost everything else they owned were still in various boxes or containers, since they had moved south to be closer to Arn’s new position as a guard. It had been emotional, seeing their livestock be sold off at auction, but the amount they had earned granted them a better house in Hateno village, one with a pond to wash things in, a couple of trees, two stables and a larger storage section for their firewood.

“Did everything go alright, though? Introduced us to the neighbours like I’d asked?”

“Uh. No. I was busy.”

“Aw bud, we’ll have to do that together then, maybe the day after tomorrow. What were you busy with? Unpacking? Did that at least go well?”

 _“Yes,_ papa. Everything was fine. How was the fort?”

“It’s smaller than I was expecting. A big imposing wall but not a lot else. Something tells me they're going to focus on building it up though, because it’s pretty much the only thing protecting the village and the other settlements around here. Apart from you and me.”

“Sure, papa.”

“In all seriousness though,” Arn continued, “It feels like every house around here belongs to a soldier. It makes me think they're planning something big. Oh!” Link looked up from his soup as Arn continued from his outburst, “That reminds me. Apparently a sword has been stolen from a forest near Akkala. They think its been gone for a while, but they need to find out who took it as soon as possible.”

Link gently put down his spoon, maintaining eye contact with the floor. “Why?”

“Apparently it’s enchanted. The person who took it is supposed to be that hero, you know? The one you hate.”

“I don't _hate_ the hero, papa, I just don't like sharing his name.”

“Right, well, apparently whoever picked up that sword is destined to be the one that seals away the darkness or whatever. They need to find him so that he and Princess Zelda can fight whatever evil is destined to take over Hyrule.”

“And how did they know the sword was gone?”

“Well, it’s usually in a pedestal in the middle of the Lost Woods, or the Great Hyrule Forest depending on where you go in from. They routinely send people in to have a go at it, but the most recent time they went in the sword was gone! The only reasonable thing to take from it is that someone went in there, saw it, and took it. It’s not like a bear or something could have picked it up.”

“What about a bokoblin?”

“No, it’s destined to be a Hylian, apparently. It’s all legends though, so it might just turn out to be some kid causing trouble. Those “hero that seals the darkness” stories don't really hold water these days. When was the last time we saw a terrible war or something that wasn't caused by the people?”

“No idea.”

“Well, believe it or not, the royal family is still upset that the sword was taken away.”

“It might be an heirloom.”

“Regardless, let’s just hope whoever took it returns it before they start to search houses for it. Only Hylia will know how long that will take.”

Link put down his spoon and sighed, “Well I don't want them searching anywhere around here. I still have to put everything away. They’ll mess everything up.”

Arn laughed, “I don't think it’ll come to that. If the person has any sense they’ll return it as soon as possible. It’s like if they had stolen the king’s crown. Kicking the beehive. In all seriousness though, Link,” he said, his voice turning slightly darker as he maintained eye contact over the table, “If you see someone carrying a sword with a blue hilt and a gold emblem on it, report it as soon as you can. This isn't going to be something that dies down after a while.”

Mute, Link nodded.

 

///

 

That night, under the cover of rain and night, Link fled Hentio on horseback with a few select items by his side; his boomerang, a bow, a pouch full of rupees, a container full of radish soup, and a sword wrapped in beige cloth.Their horse didn't question why it was being saddled in the middle of the night, or why Link guided it through forests instead of along roads, but it seemed wary whenever Link got off to scour the path ahead.

 

“Papa. Gone to market in Kakariko. Set off early, but might stay overnight.

Love you,

Link.”

 

///

 

Although Link had been taking lesser-known routes north, there was still only one route through the Crenel hills, and so that was the way he had directed his horse. And it was just his luck that it was one of the places they had set up a blockade, searching the bags and packs of anyone that passed through, and of _course_ they stopped him even though he wasn't carrying any bags.

“Remove your hood please,” The guard said, and Link did, fluttering his eyes as the morning sun hit them.

“What’s your business going north?” He asked.

“I’m visiting some friends. Should only be overnight.” Link could feel a bead of sweat trail down his back, sticking uncomfortably to his tunic. The other guards were questioning another man who came through and didn't want to hand over his bags or sword, so it was up to this one man to deal with Link.

“Whereabouts?”

“Akkala.”

“Are you carrying any other weapons?” He asked, gesturing to Link’s back, “Aside from the bow?”

“A boomerang,” Link replied, wishing to the stars that the guard wouldn't look to the other side of his horse, where he had strapped the sword to the saddle.

The guard smiled at him, “Well it looks like you're good to go then Mr.…?”

“Uh, Link.”

He snapped back to look at Link again, his eyes wide. “Like the hero?” He asked, and Link immediately groaned.

“I hate it when people make that comparison.”

“Oh, sorry. It’s just we were told to keep an eye out for anyone called Link, and it’s been four days now and you're the first person we’ve heard with that name.”

“Weird.”

The guard shrugged, “Well its protocol is all, Mr. Link. We’re going to have to take note of your full name and address if that’s alright.”

Link panicked. “No,” He said.

“What?”

“I, uh. I don't have an address. That’s the reason I’m visiting my friends. They’re going to help me find somewhere to live.”

“Well can you give me your _friend’s_ address? We need to be able to find you for when we get the Master Sword back.”

“I don't remember their address.”

“You don't know their address.”

“No.”

“But you're going to stay with them.”

“Yes.”

“Right. Can you give us an approximation of where they live then, Mr. Link?”

“Akkala.”

“Where?”

“Uh,” He said, “East Akkala beach.”

The guard wrote it down. “Well then Mr. Link, you’re clear to go on your way!” He said, chipper again. “I hope your journey is safe.”

“Thank you, sir,” Link said, forcing a smile, “I hope you find what you're looking for soon.”

The guard smiled at him and walked back towards his post, joining the rest of the others since the angry man had hit the road. Link, still faking the calmness on his face, forced the horse into a trot to escape the blockade as quickly as he could without becoming suspicious.

“Is that a sword?” He heard someone behind him ask.

Link kicked the horse into a sprint.

 

Dawn broke over Hyrule and Link was riding for his life.

Four guards were close behind him, on horses that hadn't been riding for fifteen hours straight and ones that weren’t used to farm work. His own horse was fast, but the ones behind him were faster, so Link did all that he could to give himself the advantage - he rode on uneven ground.

Hooves broke through branches, bushes, leaves and wildflowers, but Link did not stop for a moment for breath. He struggled to get the sword free from its sheath, twisting it this way and that to get it loose. They hit cobblestone, approaching the woodland stable, but one of the guards behind them blew a whistle and Link’s stomach swooped.

They were approaching the Rauau ruins and the military training camp.

An idea struck him and he grinned manically, like all of his childhood shenanigans were cumulating in a single event like he had imagined for all those years growing up. Although he hadn't imagined it under quite the circumstances, Link had never been one to depend on fate. He kicked his horse into a sprint again, rocketing past the stable and up the slope through the Minshi woods, and he directed his horse to twist around the bend in the path at such a sharp rate that her hooves skidded on the gravel. One of the guards cried out as he went out of sight, but the horse reappeared once more, still following the path down towards the woods and so they too kicked into a sprint to make chaise.

 _One, two, three, four,_ and all the guards had gone after the horse, leaving Link dangling in a tree behind them, smiling like an idiot with a hand around the mysterious blue sword’s hilt. He knew that when he got out he’d have to rescue his horse once more, but for now he pulled up the hood on his dyed-green Hylian armour once more, letting it stoop over his eyes as he awaited nightfall.

The progress he made within the next two and a half hours was slow, unbearable, but thankfully only noticed by him. He had managed to get to a point where he could see the entrance to the Lost Woods without being seen, but he was still in grave danger here. As suspected the entrance to the woods was _swamped_ with guards, all milling about and checking under rocks and behind trees for him, but thankfully Link still had all his fourteen year old wisdom behind him, and so instead of rushing towards the entrance like he had been planning, he climbed a tree, tucked himself between two branches so that he couldn't be seen by anyone below him, and had a nap.

 

He awoke at dusk, feeling the effects of the long ride in his legs as he attempted to climb down the tree without making a sound. He winced as he landed on both feet, immediately crouching so that he wouldn't be seen. There were still a few men waiting by the entrance, but nowhere near as many as there had been before, and if he squinted he could see his horse tied to a tree near three or so others.   
Satisfied with his espionage skills, Link smirked to himself and started with his next slow descent towards the entrance to the woods. Taking a longer route, Link snuck around on the rocky outcropping along the path, keeping his head low and his eyes on the prize. Faintly, he could hear the guards talking to one another.

“Marn and Kole should be here by now. If they do what they did yesterday then we might as well just walk out and blame it on them.

“What time is it?”

“Around ten minutes past eight.”

“What a bunch of freeloaders. They're probably stuffing their faces in the canteen again.”

They stayed in silence for a moment longer, and Link did the same, hoping and praying that they did in fact ditch their post so that it would be easier for him to sneak in. The one on the right was obviously getting agitated, shifting from one foot to the other.

“I’m going to look up the hill to see if they're coming,” the right one eventually said, and the other just shrugged, not voicing any remark or dissuasion. The guard did as they said they would, moving away from their post and up the hill to peak around the corner, and Link knew an opportunity when he saw one. As quietly as he could he slid down the rocky slope to be behind the remaining guard, kept his breathing steady, and booked it into the woods.

 

‘Just like last time,’ He thought to himself, ‘Follow the embers.’

 

In moonlight the strange grotto was equally as beautiful as the time he visited before, although now instead of feeling wonder he felt a great ominous dread hanging over him like a cloud, making his shoulders carry a much greater weight than they were bearing before. ‘Peculiar’ sprung to mind, but Link still approached the stone pedestal where he had found the sword in the first place. Gently he unsheathed it, listening keenly for the satisfying noise as he did, and placed the sheath itself in the hollowed out stone floor near his feet and the sword pedestal.

Gently, Link lowered the blade into the stone, feeling it as it settled into place and sent almost electrifying shivers down his spine. He sighed, grabbed the torch that he had found on his way in, and wandered back through the mist.

 

The training grounds were just as quiet as they had been an hour before, although Link was still only playing it by ear due to the guards by the entrance to the woods. One of them looked like they were asleep, but the other watched the road to the woods with the kind of eyes gained from years of experience. Link licked his lips, thinking of a plan on the spot.

_What if I…? No, that won't…_

_How about..?_

_Uhhh._

He moved position, attempting to get a little closer without them noticing his approach, but the floor was made from loose stones. His foot slipped, making a horrid crunching sound as it scooted across the floor.

“What was that?”

Link dived for the shadows, his voice coming in pants and his heart shuddering into a rapid beat.  He watched, hiding in a bush as one of the guards turned to look for whatever had made the noise. The one who was more awake snatched up a torch and lit it, wandering into the woods. The other didn't so much as flinch, their head drooping over their sword. Link was on the right side of the path, opposite to where he had been earlier, and the guard was thankfully on the same side as him. They passed him by, moving the torch this way and that, but Link wasn't one to wait around.

As quickly as he could he grappled up the wall on the right, avoiding the guard’s line of sight as best he could, and got to the top of the rocky outcrop. He could only see the faint glow of the guard’s torch now, enveloped in the mist as they were, and Link used his new vantage point to search the military camp for his horse.

As suspected it was still tied to the tree, grazing on the weeds and sparse patches of grass around it that the other horses hadn't eaten yet. Although his horse wasn't in the most difficult of places to get to, there were still frequent guards walking around the area with no clear pattern to them. Link squinted at one of the tents nearby, trying to see what was inside it. After five or so minutes of watching and waiting, Link pulled his hood down further over his eyes and took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He moved.

Again he kept as quiet as he could, moving slowly and precisely to avoid any accidents like with the guard back at the woods. Although it was nighttime, the summer heat bore down on him and clung to his skin. He listened acutely for any noise of the guards but heard nothing but crickets chirping.

Finally Link reached his horse and without delay he started to untie it, ignoring how they nestled their nose into his hair and huffed, messing up his braids. He shushed it, placing a hand to his lips as if the horse would take the visual queue and listen to him. Then, thinking about it, Link untied the other horses with a dark chuckle.

‘Get to the woods,’ Link willed himself, ‘Get to the woods.’

But getting to the woods wouldn't be as easy as he’d hoped. To his left there was a tent with it’s slit facing him, and another slit facing the road that he’d have to cross in order to get to the woods. Furthermore, there was still the problem of the guards he’d passed earlier. Link tied his horse to one of the tent pegs to stop it from wandering off or following him before leaning out to get a better view of the situation. This, he realised when he spotted the watchtower further up the path, would be the greatest trial he’d ever faced.

He smiled mischievously.

Link pulled himself further back into his hiding place to look underneath the edge of the tent he was behind, taking in it’s contents with a watchful and considering eye.

Armour. Lots of it. Obviously this was where they either kept or mended it, and seeing as it was a training camp come actual military post, this would be the perfect time for Link to use any and all things that he could get his hands on. And seeing as the lights were out in the tent it meant that no one was there, and hopefully no one would check on it before morning. It gave him the perfect idea. He smiled to himself, drew back into the shadows, and squirmed his way under the tent flaps.

 

“Evening,” Link said, riding past the guards near to the wood’s entrance. The one guard who was actually awake nodded at him, but the other was fast asleep. He turned his horse away from them, following the path around the edge of the cliff until trees enveloped him.  Leaning back on his horse, his armour clinking as he rode, he desperately tried not to laugh. He leaned over his horse, stroking its shoulder in praise as it whinnied at him.

The plan, as he had already gone over in his head, was now in full swing. The first step was to ride past the Woodland Stable, then on the sandbank alongside the Zora River and the Trilby Plain, and further until he reached the bridge over the river near to Bone Pond. here he would dismount and abandon the armour, taking refuge behind the thick foliage and taking advantage of the poor weather conditions to disguise his trickery. The Lynaru Wetlands were next, and while Link hadn't travelled that route before he was certain that he could ask someone for guidance, possibly claiming that someone lost an item in there that he was searching for. After safely passing the Wetland Stables and the wetlands itself, Link would go up the Sahasra Slope and into Kakariko to buy vegetables and thank the Goddess for his fortune.

After that he knew the route but not the names of the areas, so he would have to rely on his own skills more than the names of places, seeing as he was new to the area, but nevertheless he still felt proud of himself for his espionage.

Not that he knew what that word even meant.

 

Link kicked down the door.

“PAPA! I’M HOME!”

“How many times do i have to tell you not to kick the door?” Arn said, turning to look at his son from the stove, “You’ll dent it.”

“Yeah but look at all this cool stuff that I got from Kakariko,” Link pulled his pouch down from his back and emptied its contents on the table, ignoring how the pumpkin rolled off the table in favour of picking up a carrot to show his father- “Look, the lady in the shop gave me all the carrots that were going off because no one in the village wanted them.”

“What are you going to make with nearly gone carrots?”

“Like a stew or something.”

“Uh huh.”

“Or cake.”

“Uh huh.”

“Or soup.”

“Link.”

He looked up from the pile of carrots he had been making, placing his hand on the reclaimed pumpkin instead. Arn was looking at him, his eyes tired as he slouched next to the stove.

“When were you going to tell me about the sword?”

Link’s skin turned ice cold.

“What sword?” He laughed, awkward.

“The one that I assume you just rushed to put back.”

“What? No, I went to Kakariko, papa.”

“Uh huh.”

“There isn't a sword. Why would there be a sword?”

Arn let out a heavy sigh, moving away from his slouching spot to take a heavy seat at the table, then he gestured for his son to follow suit. As soon as Link sat, albeit extremely awkwardly, he curled inwards and rested his elbows on the table. Arn poured them both a small glass of wine from the pitcher and took a sip. Link didn't reach for the one that was obviously for him.

“At around eight thirty in the morning yesterday there was a man dressed in green at the Crenel hills to be searched in the blockade. The Blockade that was set up to find the assumed man who took the Master Sword. The man they stopped, with a long braid of blonde hair and who was possibly between fifteen and twenty years old, was carrying a bow, a boomerang, and apparently nothing else. He mentioned that he was going to Akkala to seek out a friend. When the guard asked his name he said it was Link, and that he couldn't give an address because he was, at the time, homeless. The guard took down his friend’s approximate area of residence and waved him on.

“Then, as he passed, one of the guards saw him carrying a sword, and as soon as he mentioned it the man took off. They gave chase, eventually rounding the corner to the military training camp up near the woods, only to find that he had dismounted from his horse with his items and disappeared. They searched for a few hours to find him, going as far out as Eldin, up the Rauau hillside and down into Castle Town to find him, but with no luck. They tied up the man’s horse and set regular guards out in case the man came back to attempt to steal it.”

“That night a man in armour rode out of the camp on horseback, carrying nothing but a bow and a boomerang. The guard that claimed they saw him wasn't aware of which horse was the thief's, so they said nothing. It turns out the guy on the horse was most likely the thief due to the colouration of the horse that the guard chose to ride out on, but the guard that saw him didn't know that the horse was the thief’s because they had been transferred there from Fort Hateno that afternoon.”

Link sucked in air from between his teeth, but his father didn't react to it. Instead he continued with his story.

“Then at around four in the morning they found a set of armour near the Zora River. At three in the afternoon _today_ they saw a man on a horse just like the one that the thief owned, in a green tunic and hood, riding past the Duelling peaks stable and across the bridge, but instead of turning right to go through the valley, the man turned left as if to sneak is way around the fort.

“The horse he was on was nearly completely brown, with long black hair that grew over its eyes, and white hair over its hooves. It also had a white rump that was speckled with spots the same colour as the rest of its coat. Link, what does our horse look like?”

“Cream.”

“The _other horse,_ Link.”

His voice was impossibly small. “Brown.”

“Uh huh.”

“White rump with spots.”

“Uh huh.”

“Long dark hair.”

“Right. They saw a horse that looked just like our horse. And rider himself was pretty distinct too, wouldn't you say? Green tunic and hood, tan trousers with brown boots. Long braided blonde hair, blue eyes, carrying nothing but a bow, boomerang, and a blue enchanted sword with a gold decorative feature on its front wrapped in cloth.”

Link nodded. Arn watched him from across the table, running his fingers over the edge of his glass as he considered what to do next. He sighed and reached to down his glass, just as Link let out a sniffle.

“Do you want to be the hero, Link?”

“No.” He sobbed out. “I don't. I’m not a hero, I’m Link.”

Arn sighed, got up, and sat in the chair right next to his son. He gently placed his hand on Link’s shoulder in a comforting gesture. “Well since you don't then we need to act quickly.”

He looked up at him, shocked. “What?”

“You don't want to be the hero. At least not yet, right?” Link nodded, tear tracks still running down his face. “Then you probably don't want to look like the guy that everyone in the kingdom thinks is the hero.”

“Yeah,” He croaked, “That makes sense.”

“You're right, it does. So let’s make it so that you look nothing like that guy, right bud? You're not the guy that stole and then replaced a sword. You're my son, my bud, and we stick together. Now go get changed out of those clothes and think about if you want to cut your hair. It looks great now, don't get me wrong, but I think you’ll at least need a new style.”

Link got up from the table, still sniffling, but smiling like his father had given him something that he’d treasure for the rest of his life. In some ways, he had. “Thank you, papa.”

“Aw bud,” He said, “Come here. It breaks my heart to see you cry like that.”

And that hug, though short in the grand scheme of things, was something that Link would remember for one hundred years or more.

“You don't need a sword to be a hero, anyway,” Arn said into Link’s hair, “Look at you now. No sword in sight but I think you’ve already managed to save mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly longer chapter this time, and as the next chapter is coming out to be quite long it might be a while before I update again. I also have two essays due, so hopefully the change of pace will get me wtiting again when those are over and done with. 
> 
> I'm sorry if this chapter seems a little rushed - im not so good at writing action heavy scenes, and furthermore scenes that have a lot going on. I feel like this whole chapter could have easily been over 7000 words if I wasnt so interested on getting it out. 
> 
> Thank you for all the lovely comments and kudos so far. I really appriciate it :)


	8. Caught

“My name is Esser, I’m fifteen, and the only sword I've ever used was yours.”

“Right.”

“I moved here from Akkala, I've always enjoyed staying at home, and green isn't my colour.”

 

 

Nine days after Link returned from the Lost Woods there was a knock at the door, sounding out over their quiet dinner like church bell at a call to prayer. Arn looked up at the clock, and noticing the time he asked himself, “Who in Hyrule could that be?”

Link shrugged, too invested in inhaling his dinner to care about any interruptions. Arn, on the other hand, got up to answer it immediately.

The door knocked again, and Arn fiddled with the lock, grumbling as he swung open the door.

“Good evening, sir.” A guard said, his eyes serious. Although he wasn't wearing his helmet, instead tucking it under his arm in a show of respect, the guard’s face was stormy, like he was facing an army head on. Arn’s eyes flickered immediately to the stripes on the man’s right arm that indicated rank, and noticed the royal blue strip of colour.

He swallowed, “Commander.”

“I apologise if I have interrupted something, but I have been given strict orders from the capital in regards to a believed resident of your home. It is of the utmost importance that this is discussed now. Your name is Arn, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And you are a lieutenant at Fort Hentio, moved from Akkala a couple of weeks ago, yes?”

“Yes.”

The commander shuffled with his helmet, producing a few pieces of paper before he handed one to Arn. Behind him, Link was attempting to sneak up the stairs without being called out for going out of the guard’s line of sight. It was difficult, abandoning the soup like that, although it was hard to believe, Link wasn't sure if he could eat in a time like this.

“This is a formal request from the throne for you and any residents in this household to come before the king. Unfortunately we will need you both-” The guard looked sharply at Link as he tried to escape upstairs, and Link stopped immediately upon being spotted, “- to come with us immediately. We have a carriage ready for you.”

“I… I don't understand,” Arn said, voice lost, “Why do we need to meet the king?”

The commander smiled at him, almost apologetically.

“Our records say that there is a man by the name of Link in this household.”

“Oh,” Arn said, acting confused, “You must be mistaken. My son is called Esser.”

“Does anyone else live here?”

“No, just us.”

The commander’s smile didn't falter. “Well that's very odd,” He retorted, “At your previous lodgings, or the house that you lived in before moving here, there have only been four residents with the last name of Warkins: Arn Warkins, Medilia Warkins, Aryll Warkins, and Link Warkins. It is stated on our registry files that the two women that were a part of this family have passed (which I am very sorry to hear of, by the way), but the two men are still alive. Unless your son Link has somehow been lost and you have acquired a new one, then I am lead to assume that _you_ ,” He indicated to Link with his head, “Are either _actually called Link,_ or have changed your name to Esser since moving here. Am I correct?”

Neither Link or Arn moved, too busy trying to wrap their heads around the information that had just been spat at them, and the guard looked between them almost expectantly as he waited for them to make up whether or not they would replying any time soon..

“Lieutenant?”

“Ah, yes, apologies,” Arn said, still not entirely sure what he had to say to appease this man. He raised one of his hands to stroke over his chin, feeling the bristles run through his fingers as a sort of comfort to help him think.

Link took a step down from his position, looking the guard squarely in the eye. He opened his mouth to speak, trying to act cool.

“Can I at least finish my soup first?”

The commander laughed.

“Yes, son. You can finish your soup. I’ll come for you both in an hour, but if you feel like coming sooner then we’ll be at the town gate. Thank you both for being so understanding.”

And with that the commander left into the night, placing his helmet back on as he walked back out into the rain. Arn stood there for a moment, listening to the cicadas and the footfalls as they became increasingly faint, before gently shutting the door.

Link looked at his father for a moment, still halfway up the stairs in a stunned silence.

“Papa?” He asked, still unsure of what to do.

Arn clapped his hands together, rubbing them in preparation as he looked over their table.

“We can do this,” He said, “We’ll play it calm, yeah? You pack your bags, I’ll do the dishes, and then we’ll head down there when we’re ready.”

Link nodded, but instead of rushing upstairs to pack he instead went over to the dinner table and drank the rest of his soup straight from the bowl. Only when he had finished did he give his father a thumbs up before going upstairs. Arn smiled at him with affection in his eyes and went to do the same.

 

///

 

“I don't see why I can't just wear my usual tunic,” Link grumbled, holding the fancier shirt out in front of him like it had offended his heritage. The tailor sighed, the guard watching Link sighed, and the maid sent to care for him sighed. Link was either blind or oblivious, because he continued anyway, “Besides, I can't afford this. There’s way too much fancy embroidery and sewn beads on this for me to pay for.”

“Link, sir, the court wants you to look decent in front of the royal family. They will pay for whatever you end up wearing.”

Looking over the shirt at the maid, Link asked her, “Do you get this a lot?”

She was taken aback, “What do you mean, sir?”

“Please don't call me sir. Link is fine, okay? I mean like, following someone around as they do apparently important things, rushing about for apparently important business, that sort of thing.”

Scared to admit it with words, the woman nodded.

Link sighed and brought a hand to his eyes, slouching in defeat at the mere thought of having to man up and face one of his greatest fears - fashion. He looked up at the tailor again, and in despair asked, “What is the cheapest green shirt that you sell?”

The tailor set himself into action, pulling garments this way and that in search of one of the items at the back that fit Link’s standards. The maid found her voice again, and almost apologetically said, “Um, sir- sorry, Link. The court asked for you to be made presentable in more than just clothing, I’m afraid.”

“How so?”

The guard looked at her out of the corner of his eye, waiting to see if the poor woman would actually go through with telling this handful of a boy what the court actually had wanted him to be before being seen by royalty. She noticed him looking and made a face at him, but as soon as she noticed Link looking at her she stood up straighter. “Well, Link,” She said, her voice still shaking a little around his name, “They gave me a list. They insisted that you would be fitted with new clothes and boots, be bathed by the handmaids in the castle, and have your hair cut.”

He looked at her like she was insane. “What?”

“They want to bathe you, clothe you, and cut your hair.”

“I’m very sorry, but I don't know your name.” His voice came out

“Amelia.”

“Amelia, I would sooner take my own life than let someone cut my hair. If the court still wants me to cut it then I’ll take my knife out do exactly that in front of them.”

The tailor coughed, getting Link’s attention again.

“This is the closest thing I could find that fit your description.”

The shirt wasn't nearly as formal as the others the tailor had tried to dress him in, but still Link looked at it with dismay, noticing the multiple layers and intricate beading at the neck. The doublet was a deep forest green, with a brown leather strap following the centre front of it. There was also a decorative flair near the neck and the ends of the sleeves, both made from the same leather. The clasps holding it closed were made from gemstones that Link could not identify, but reflected as a dull green in the bright working lamp that the tailor kept at hand.

“There will need to be alterations,” The man began, noticing Link’s face, “And we can remove certain elements of it if they are not to your taste. Do you have any suggestions?”

Link looked it over, seeming confused. “Why are the sleeves so big? Are they padded or something?”

“Yes, well, it’s tradition for many noblemen's shirts to have padded arms to give the impression that they’re more muscular than they perhaps are.”

“Would it be possible to get rid of them? Maybe just have a normal cotton shirt underneath instead?”

“Yes, that would be rather simple, actually.”

“And the beads?”

“Ah,” The tailor pulled something on the back of the shirt, and the beads fell from the shirt in a string, “They’re removable.”

Finally seeming satisfied, Link clapped his hands together and smiled at the tailor. “Thank you,” He said, genuinely relieved to have finally found something he wouldn't feel incredibly out of place wearing, “I appreciate your honesty.”

The guard stood up as the tailor went about preparing his work station to alter the clothes, opening the door for the maid and Link as she directed him to the shoe shop. It was a quiet day in Castle Town, with drizzle falling from the sky and an unpleasant northwest wind blowing through. Most people had the good sense to stay inside on such a bitter day, but that didn't stop them from being ferried from place to place, effecting Link’s nerves like a sword against a bench grinder.

After two hours of moving from shop to shop, Link was brought back to the castle exhausted. The guard left him with a nod, and the maid helped direct him further into the castle. “We’ll get you ready for your meeting, Link. I’m sorry this all has to be so… what's the word…”

“Shitty?”

“Oh Link! Did your father teach you that?”

“No, it was a priest, actually.” He smiled, “He called me it when I climbed the steeple of his church to catch a butterfly.”

The woman laughed, “Well, I wish I could say that I had an equally adventurous story. The words I was looking for was convoluted, actually, but either apply, I suppose.”

Link smiled slightly, although she couldn't see it, and he felt at least a little bit better. Since leaving Hentio he had felt a whole flurry of emotions, ranging from dread to rage, and this was one of the only times he had smiled in the past twenty four hours. The older woman unlocked a door that lead out of the hallway and pushed through it, holding it open for him as he came through as well, but as soon as he had he fought to get out again.

“Now Link, you knew this was coming,” The woman said, unimpressed with his escape attempt, “The royal family don't want you to smell of the outdoors and all its shortcomings, they want you clean.”

The other women who had been preparing the bath looked up as she wrestled him further into the room, holding both his wrists in one hand and a flailing ankle in the other as she drew him closer. One of the women left the bath’s side to lock the door and take back the key, watching as the other women tried to undress him. Slowly, almost like the poor girl was sneaking around a monster, she went to the table of scented oils to put into the water, selecting a few of her own personal favourites to subject him to.

“ _No,”_ Link said, voice coming through gritted teeth, “ _No- I don't want-”_

_Sploosh._

Link was in the sudsy water, instantly covered from head to toe in a mixture of scents and smells, and he wretched as water went up his nose. The woman who had guided him through the castle brushed her hands together in a job well done and went into a side room, leaving the other two girls to ‘help’ him get clean (or in his eyes, humiliate him).

“Amelia is going to go to pick up your clothes and such from the tailors, sir.” The girl in yellow said, watching her twin in pink wrestle with removing his now sodden gloves, “She should be back by the time we’re finished.”

With his gloves off Link was fully able to hide himself in the water, glaring at the girls as he went up to his nose. The one in pink continued for her, “We were told that you don't want to cut your hair, correct?” She paused for Link to answer, but when he didn't she continued on, “That’s a wise decision. It’s not often we see someone with such beautiful long blonde hair.”

Link wasn't sure what element of the situation caused his cheeks to get so warm - the two girls, the praise, the manhandling, the loss of the fight, or the fact that he was naked and smelt like lavender, with only a thin layer of bubbles keeping him from indecent exposure. The two girls took his silence as a defeat and begun the long process of washing him. His complete lack of participation didn't seem to deter them any, and instead they just talked over him like he was a sheet to be scrubbed instead of a boy, moving his limbs as they pleased to reach under his arms or along his legs. They did give anything below his stomach or above his thighs a wide berth though, for which he was thankful.

The whole process made his cheeks get more and more red as time went on, and as the girl in pink braided his hair she began to talk about something that Link himself couldn't say he had much experience with.

“You know Cleo?”

“Who?”

“The woman who feeds the horses and livestock downstairs.”

“Oh yes.”

“She was telling me yesterday that her boyfriend was trying to grow a beard.”

“Oh dear. That must be uncomfortable for her.”

“It is, apparently. She doesn't have heart to tell him that it doesn't suit him either. For some reason it's much darker than his actual hair.”

Link furrowed his eyebrows. Why would a beard make her uncomfortable?

“Perhaps it’s similar to how body hair is darker than head hair.”

“Maybe. Or his hair just sucks.”

The yellow girl laughed, “Probably that. I feel bad for Cleo though, she never seems to have luck with that kind of thing. Men are too picky, willing to take things that they can't give.”

The girl in pink looked at Link’s half-submerged face, and all of a sudden she was far too close. She asked, almost accusingly, “How old are you, Mr. Link?”

He drew his face back; eyes staring into hers like it would get her to stop looking at him. He emerged from the water and with his voice still carrying a heavy dose of annoyance, he said, “I’m fifteen.”

She pulled back slightly, but now the girl in yellow was looking at him as well. “Fifteen?” She said, and he nodded. They looked at one another, deciding how to move forward with the situation.

They looked at Link. Link looked at them. They looked at one another.

“You're too young to listen to that conversation,” The pink girl decided pulling herself back from the tub, and she busied herself with massaging something bubbly into his scalp.

Link furrowed his brow at her, “What do you mean ‘too young’? It’s about _beards._ ”

They giggled at him, but still didn't say what exactly they meant. He sunk under the water again, leaving everything above his nose out of the water.

“Don't worry, sir. One day you’ll understand.”

 

“They suit you, Link.” Amelia said with all the pride of a mother seeing her son in formal clothing. Link _was_ in formal clothing, but Amelia was not his mother, so it somewhat dampened the feeling of pride in his chest when he looked in the mirror. His hair was still the same length as before, thankfully, and still braided, but the girls had put their fantastic hair skills into action and gave him a half-formal hairstyle, with two braids circling around the back of his head and joining in the centre, and the rest of his hair laying long against his back.

Since Link didn't have a full-length mirror at home, and hadn't been to someone’s house that owned one in years, it had been a long time since he had seen himself. He had to admit that he looked rather handsome in his new brown boots and green doublet, and the thinner cotton on the arms helped show off the fact that he wasn't one for fake muscles.

Shyly, he smiled at her.

“I won't thank you for the bath, but I will for the clothes. Thank you.”

She laughed, and the two girls off to the side tittered at him. “It’s no worry, Link. The royal family expected you at your best, and I’m certain now that we’ll give it to them.”

“When do I have to meet them?”

Amelia looked at the clock, saying, “We have half an hour until the ceremony. We should go.”

 

( “What do I have to do again, papa?” A young Link asked, tucked under his father’s shoulder as the rain poured down.

“Like I said, bud. Mrs. Crowl just wants you to be polite and to listen. If you're ever uncertain, watch what everyone else is doing.”

Link threw a rock out into the rain, watching as it went into a puddle and splashed everywhere. “I don’t want to meet Mrs. Crowl. I just want to stay here with you.”

“I know bud. But sometimes you have to step out of your comfort zone a little and meet someone new. The worst you can do is make a bad impression, but because you’re going to be around her for a while I’m sure that even if you somehow do you’ll both get along eventually.”

Quietly, Link and Arn waited for Mrs. Crowl to appear with her covered wagon of children, ready to take them through the rain and to the church for their lessons. )

 

Link could feel his heart beating out of his chest, all of the procrastinating on his anxieties catching up on him now, five minutes before he was to go into the throne room and meet the royal family, where he and a few other men were to be judged in Hylia-knows what way to see if any of them were the ‘chosen one’ or whatever.

“Is my pa in there?” He asked one of the guards, but he shrugged.

“Do you know where Arn Warkins is?” He asked another, who also shrugged.

“Amelia please tell me if my pa is anywhere, I can't do this,” He said, thirty seconds from a breakdown, “I can't- what if I-”

“Oh shush, child,” She said, dragging him down into a hug. Link may have been short but Amelia was shorter, and it hadn't taken her long to warm up to Link like wax to a lit wick, “I understand that you’re nervous but it’s really quite simple. Stay quiet unless asked a question, and end everything you say with ‘Your majesty,’ if it’s the king or queen, and ‘your highness,’ if it’s the princess. Oh and try not to cry. I did that the first time I met the queen and while she wasn't upset about it, well I sure was.”

“T-thanks,” Link said, not feeling at all better, “I feel a lot better.”

 

“Link Aamaara, please step forward.”

There must have been a hundred guards in the room, and Link felt like he was being judged from every angle, even the ones he didn't know he had. In addition to the copious amounts of guards there were people - nobles, royalty, dukes and duchesses - of every race present to watch the king whittle out which Link was the chosen hero. Queen Zelda sat with her head high and with her crown glistening, her slender form almost ethereal in the candle lit room. The King himself was equally as noble, dressed in the finest of finery that made a diamond mine look underdressed, although he didn't look nearly as friendly, with deep set eyes and a heavy frown.

The Link at the pedestal was tall, had dark hair and skin, and wore the ugliest blue trousers that Link had ever seen, covered in ruffles and glitter. The other Links somehow managed to look both under and overdressed at the same time, all of whom were apparently confident enough to watch the man in the horrifying trousers try to pull the sword from the stone.

‘How did they manage to bring it here if only the chosen hero can move it?’ Link thought to himself, ‘Did they just move the stone too?’

“Link Aamaara, thank you for trying. Please go sit down.”

The poor man looked like he had sprained something from pulling the sword, and he shook his arms out as he went to the chairs provided once they had attempted. The next man in line cracked his knuckles.

“Link Dayn, please step forward,” The court member said, crossing the previous name from the list.

Although there was technically a line, of which Link was last, they all stood in a row facing the thrones. There were around ten of them all together, give or take since Link, upon entering, hadn't looked up from his unnervingly shiny boots, too absorbed with not making a fool of himself to watch the other men named Link try at the sword that he knew that he alone could lift. The guy strained, making a noise as something in his back clicked, before the court member again said, “Link Dayn, thank you for trying. Please sit down.”

“Link Gryer, please step forward.”

He could feel someone watching him. Their eyes hadn't left him since he had entered the room. He really wished that he hadn't worn cotton, seeing as his sweat was appearing through the shirt, but was also very glad of it, as every passing breeze that entered through the open doors cooled him somewhat. He was also very glad that they had such decorated floors because it allowed him to count how many shiny blue tiles were in the floor in comparison to the shiny red ones.

“Link Gryer, thank you for trying. Please sit down.”

“Link Jika, please step forward.”

Breathing deeply at this point did nothing to settle his nerves, but he tried to reach for that sense of calmness that he felt countless times in childhood - when he was herding sheep with their dog, When he was watching the rain fall on a autumns day, when he and Missie and Flick used to lay under trees and talk about whatever floated through their minds, and when Lou came and joined them sometimes. His eyes flickered upwards, meeting with another’s across the room, and his blood turned to ice.

Princess Zelda was looking at him like he was the only man in the room, her eyes wide and blue, her hair shiny and golden, and her posture impeccable. She smiled at him when she noticed him looking back, and Link ducked his head down like there was an arrow coming for his skull. Today was possibly the day that he had blushed the most his entire life. He hadn't even blushed this hard when that weird girl in the castle kissed him, hard that it may be to believe that.

“Lord Link Midas Lotherarn II, please step forward.”

This Link was impeccably dressed, from his red cloak to his tight fitting trousers, from his ruby circlet to his slick black hair, and Link could see this guy as the one that everyone would want to be the hero, including the king based on how he leant forward to watch. And he looked like he himself believed it too, up until the moment that he put his hand on the sword and tugged. And then again. And then with two hands.

They gave him a few more tries, just to make sure that he wasn't faking it, before the court member almost regretfully said, “Lord Link Midas Lotherarn II, thank you for trying. Please sit down.”

The man sat down in a huff, but all that Link could think of was what he was supposed to do _after_ he’d drawn it. Or hopefully after someone else drew it. For once he was cursing his last name, wishing he could have been somewhere in the middle so that he didn't have to wait for everyone else.

“Link Tarryoto, please step forward.”

The last man next to Link moved, approaching the pedestal with an easy step. He felt faint, watching the man place both hands on the sword. He felt sick when he pulled, trying to loosen it. He felt stomach-churning dread when the man couldn't free it.

“Link Tarryoto, thank you for trying. Please sit down.”

“Link Warkins, please step forward.”

All eyes turned to Link.

He held back a scream.

Legs shaking, arms shaking, heart shaking, Link walked the longest walk of his life to the pedestal. He wasn't wearing gloves, so his bare palms slipped over the sword’s handle, setting into the grooves like it was a tool he had used his whole life. The last time he did this in his own pace, by his own rules, and had drawn it with monumental amounts of effort. Here, now, in this silent and filled-to-the-bursting throne room, Link didn't have his own pace, his own rules, and he had to draw it.

“Well?” The King said, impatiently. The queen shushed him, but the princess was leaning forward in her seat, watching him with eagle eyes.

Link slipped the sword free from the stone, raising it one-handed over his head like a trophy. He exhaled.

The room erupted.

“The boy’s the hero!”

“He’s younger than a foal! He can't be the hero!”

“Why Hylia, Why?”

“Enough!” The king boomed, and the room fell into silence again, all eyes on the man as he descended the steps towards Link.

Any relief he felt within the moments of chaos evaporated.

“Your name is Link Warkins, correct?”

He nodded, “Yes, your majesty.” His voice was smaller than that of a mouse. This time the queen leant forward in an attempt to hear the poor boy.

The king towered over him, watching Link as he counted the floor tiles again. “Look at me, boy,” He commanded, and Link struggled to oblige. “Tell me the truth,” He said, “Did you know that you could draw that sword?”

“No, your majesty.”

“Were you aware that someone had stolen it from its resting place less than a week ago?”

“No, your majesty.”

Link was shaking.

The king drew back, “Very well,” He said, turning to return to his throne, “If it is agreeable to you we would like to discuss what this all means now.”

“Of course, your majesty.”

Link felt like he was swimming, like he was taking on water, like he had been baked in the sun for days

 _So this is what death feels like,_ he thought as he fell to the floor with a clatter, as people rushed towards him.

_Huh._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The full work is now finished, and its just a matter of editing and uploading from now on. I can't wait to get started on the second part in the series :)


	9. Judgement

“You will be the appointed knight of Princess Zelda as soon as she turns sixteen. Tell me boy, are you familiar with a sword?”

“Somewhat, Link said, struggling to keep up with the commander as he marched them towards the great hall, wherein the king and queen, without Zelda this time, we’re awaiting him to discuss his new role within the king’s grand scheme.

“What do you mean somewhat?”

“My pa- I mean father, taught me sometimes at home, but I’ve never had formal training. I did smack a lizalfos across the face one with a stick though.”

The commander hummed, his pristine white boots squeaking on the tiled floor. “And a bow?”

“I use a bow all the time for hunting or practicing mounted archery.”

“Well that’s a relief. What about a spear? Royal guards for the castle use those instead of swords.”

“I used a pitchfork to kill a bokoblin. That’s about it, other than throwing long sticks into the river.”

“I see you’re not a stranger to monsters then. I’m glad. No one wants to hear you being squeamish when it comes to those things.”

“Yeah.”

“And two handed weapons? Clubs, axes, claymores?”

“I used to chop wood. That’s it.”

“Well I’m glad you’re not entirely new to this. It’ll make my job easier down the line.”

Link wasn't entirely sure if that was a compliment, and the man’s carefully neutral voice displayed nothing. Eventually they rounded a corner and came face to face with a huge imposing door, with two guards either side. They nodded to the commander, who nodded back, and then ignored Link as he was pushed through a crack in the door.

“Ah, there he is,” One of the court men said, raising from his seat to grab Link by the arm. He dragged him over to a chair and desk, his hand digging into Link’s forearm hard enough to leave bruises. Link winced as he was put in the chair, looking to the other people in the room as they unabashedly stared at him, waiting for someone to say something to him.

He hadn't had any rest in between his fainting spell and his current circumstance, but a good few hours had passed since the ceremony. They hadn't expected him to mingle with the crowd, thankfully, but it was still humiliating being called the ‘fainting hero’ since waking up again.

It wasn't _his_ fault that the princess had been watching him, and it wasn't his fault that the king had gone up in his face like that.

The doors opened again, and Link felt the immediate shift in focus as they all looked away from him. He sighed in relief, thanking Hylia that he no longer had to act as entertainment for the people in the room. Maybe now he could explain to them that he couldn't be the hero.

“Good evening, everyone,” A kind voice spoke, and Link looked up from the far too shiny desk to see the queen glide in front of him to get to her seat. The king was not yet present, but based on the shuffling of papers and tapping of quilts he assumed the meeting was about to start without him.

Queen Zelda sat down next to Link in a far fancier chair, one that was also unnecessarily taller than his own, making him feel like he was seated next to a giant. Her sleeves brushed his arm, settling like snow before it fell beside her instead. He gulped.

“As I am certain you are all aware the Master Sword has chosen her rightful owner, Link,” She looked at him and smiled gently, and he forced himself to smile back, “And I am also certain that many of you are uncertain what will occur from this point onwards. Although I understand that it is rather late in the day now, our king as insisted that we strike while the iron is hot and at least raise any concerns we have now, even if we organise and dismiss them later. Now, if everyone is ready?”

There was a murmur from the court, and again papers shuffled and quills tapped, but the queen patiently waited for the noise to die down.

“Wonderful. It has been agreed that Commander Oslo will train Link as one of his own knights to prepare him for his duties as Princess Zelda’s appointed knight. Zelda herself will begin her training when she turns sixteen, and it expected that by that point Link will be skilled enough to suitably protect her. You have told Commander Oslo of your current skill set, yes?” She asked him, and again all eyes turned to him.

He sunk in his chair slightly, “Y-yes.”

The queen clapped her hands together, satisfied. “Wonderful,” She said, “It has also been brought to our attention that you are fifteen, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Will you be sixteen by summer next year?”

“N-no. I will be in autumn.”

The queen shuffled through her papers for a moment, thinking, before saying, “I don't believe that will be a problem, Link. I must thank you for being honest, as many who could have been in your shoes would have undoubtedly lied to appear greater than they perhaps were. Now,” She turned her attention back to the court members, “Are there any concerns?”

Many hands went up, all of which seemed to come from the angriest looking members. The queen sighed. She turned to Link again, “This may take a while. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, It’s no problem, your majesty.”

She turned back to the court. “Yes, Lord Rutgers?”

“Does the boy know how to behave around a princess? Or any royalty of that matter?”

“ _Link_ still has around a year before he will be working with her. He will be taught that in due time. Lady Hou?”

“Does the boy have any skills applicable now or will he have to be taught everything?”

“I don't know, Lady Hou. Why don’t you ask him?”

Lady Hou looked at him sharply. “Well, boy?”

He didn't know how to answer. They didn't teach you how to answer that question in his remote village farming school. “Uh, yes.” He said, still not entirely sure what the question was.

“Well? Which ones? Unless you're lying, of course.”

“I can parry,” He thought on his feet, “I’m fairly agile, ma’am. I can climb, as well, and know how to ride and care for horses. I know how to dance-”

“Dance? As in waltz or some other kind?”

“Yes, waltz. A few other kinds, too.”

A hand fell to his shoulder, “Does that answer your question, Lady Hou?”

She harrumphed and sat back down. The queen turned her attention to the next person.

 

//

 

“I’m sorry for how… critical they were to you, Link,” Queen Zelda said, obviously upset with how her court had behaved, “They aren’t especially kind towards younger people who are supposed to be seen as equal.”

“No,” Link said, kicking a rock into the pond.

They stood (or sat) near the pond and the Goddess statue in the gardens, the moonlight filtering through the trees and reflecting off the guard’s armour nearby. The queen watched as Link stood by the waterside, seeming at peace as he kicked rocks about and looked into the bushes. She touched her hair with both hands, twisting the white-gold strands into small braids.

“Come here,” She said, picking up the hairbrush and scissors. Link did so, sitting in front of her. Gently, like she wasn't there at all, she picked up his hair and loosened the tie, letting it fall down his back in a cascade of blonde stands. She ran her fingers through it in admiration before starting to brush out the braids that the two girls had so lovingly made earlier. The first snip wasn't nearly as horrible as he thought it would be.

“I’m sorry that my husband insists on this. He doesn't think that warriors suit long hair. If it were up to me I’d let you keep it.”

“I would too,” Link grumbled, tucking his knees under his chin and wrapping his arms around them. The queen didn't deter, trying to get the uncomfortable process over with. She brushed it through when the majority of the length was off, going back in for round two to finish with a neater cut. She hummed a tune he didn't recognise, but it reminded him of rainfall.

“Where are you from, Link?”

He paused. “I was born in Akkala. I moved to Hateno a few weeks ago.”

“Oh!” Link turned to look at her, confused, but she moved his head back into position. She elaborated, “I was from Akkala too. The King was an only son, you see, and he was desperate to marry someone with the royal name. I just so happened to be the only one. I suppose in some ways we’re living similar lives. Born to a happy condition, moved into the royal circle, and then…” She paused, looking at the reflection of the moon in the pond. Link didn't move for a moment, waiting for her to finish.

For some reason out here in the moonlight she didn't really look like the queen of Hyrule anymore, and instead as a normal person in extraordinary circumstances. She brushed through his hair some more, leaving longer tassels near his ears and enough to cover the back of his neck, and then she sighed deeply. In a moment of either stupidity or understanding, Link removed himself from his kneeling position and went beside the queen to sit on the bench with her. She smiled at him, slight and shy, and slumped over.

“Oh Link, you’ve met with a terrible fate, haven’t you?”

“Your majesty?”

“A wonderful life of love and freedom and nature, and now because of that ceremony you’ll never see it the same way again. I just hope fate is kind to you and my daughter. I don't care what happens to me as long as you two are safe.”

“I… I don't understand,” He said, lost.

“No, I don't suppose you do.”


	10. Glimpses

Queen Zelda died in her sleep on the coldest night that year. Link wasn't in the castle, but even still he lay awake that night, tossing and turning, thinking of creatures in the darkness. Hands, skeletal people with open mouths, undead creatures in rooms filled with skulls.

Link was called to the castle to attend the funeral, but the king had decided against an open casket. No one was exactly certain why he chose against it, seeing as an open casket was traditional, and rumour spread that her dead expression was locked in a permanent scream, with her eyes open and her skin ghastly white. It snowed as the poor gravedigger attempted to move the earth, and Link was tempted to go and help him, but as the midday bell tolled, he was frozen. All of them were frozen.

Princess Zelda began to mourn.

 

Link did not go to the castle for two weeks, plagued by night terrors and voices, alone in the day as his father left for the fought.

“They dug something out of the rock near Yarna Valley. It’s big, that's for sure,” Arn said as he cooked breakfast, “Although they're not entirely sure what it is yet. Some kind of Sheikah thing.”

Link, despite everything screaming at him to move and do something, said nothing.

 

“You are forbidden to speak to my daughter, understand? She needs no distractions as she trains to find her power, and if you so much as utter a word to her and I find out about it then I will permanently remove you from her side.” For all the king’s might Link still couldn't feel anything towards the man, not fear nor disgust or even anger. Link felt cold, and nothing more. In lieu of replying to the man he nodded and left the room.

 

The Master Sword sung in his hand as he sliced through he moblin’s chest, shaking as he shook and ringing as his ears did. He looked at the other guards that were monitoring his process, nodded at them breathlessly, and scaled the wall out of the camp. Their angry yelling didn't stop him from sprinting to the stables where Cleo was waiting with a disguise, and the guards’ angry grumbling didn't stop them from slipping past as they went into the town, giggling.

Link might not have enjoyed his time with the guards training, but the rest of the castle staff didn't seem to mind him, even if he had to be in a dress when they hung out together.

 

“It suits you, bud.”

“It’s blue.”

“But it _suits you.”_

“But it’s _blue._ ”

 

“Hey! It’s you!” Daruk yelled in his regular fashion, and Link lit up like he was looking at a gold rupee. “You’re that dumb kid that smacked that darn lizalfos around the face that time! Who would have known that you’d grow up to be such a big deal, little guy.”

Link grinned at him, almost manically, and threw himself into the hug.

“Does this happen every time?” Revali asked, voice laden with disgust.

Zelda didn't quite know what to say. “This is the first time I've had him with me to see Daruk.” She said, voice small, “And also the first time that I've seen him so... happy.”

 

The Spring of Courage gave questions.

 

“Maybe if he keeps blushing the blood will stay in his face and stop the bleeding further down,” Revali smirked, which was an impressive feat for a creature with no mouth muscles.

Mipha was not so impressed, keeping her hands compressed against the nasty stab wound on Link’s upper thigh. “Now’s not the time, Revali,” She snapped, showing her teeth.

 

The weird dream was back again, enveloping him in water as only his face and toes were exposed to the air. “Open your eyes,” The dream said, and Link did.

The underneath of the stairs greeted him.

He could hear his father snoring above him.

Cicadas were awake and chirping.

Link rolled over and went back to sleep.

 

“Come here!”

“No!”

“You need to bathe before you meet with the king!”

“I said no!”

 

“Divine Beast Vah Ruta has finally been excavated fully, as have thirty more Guardians. Vah Rudania will hopefully be freed by the end of the month. Oh!” Zelda leant down suddenly in the road, putting the Sheikah Slate back on her hip. She picked something up that was wriggling. “It’s a lizard - I believe they call this one a hightail lizard for it’s speed boosting properties when turned into an elixir. Link?”

Zelda turned to look at him, but stopped when she saw the look on his face. Link stared at the lizard; the lizard squirmed and clawed at Zelda’s hands. Her eyes turned into slits.

“I think we met before drew the sword, didn't we?” She asked, and Link gulped.

 

“What was it like?” Mipha asked when Zelda finished her story. She leant on her elbows, her opals glinting in the light from the fire, and Zelda looked at her confused.

“What do you mean?”

“You said that when you first met you kissed him.”

“Oh. He screamed.”

“Oh.”

 

“Vah Medoh is flying, we’ve gotten Vah Ruta to swim, and Vah Naboris is able to electrocute things from across the desert, scaring the life out of me. Any other progress?”

 

“Link, you can talk, right?” Mipha asked, looking around one of the many identical pillars at him. He turned to her and tilted his head in a questioning manor. “It’s only- well, this sounds silly when I say it aloud, but you make, well, noises when you fight. Groans and shouts and such.”

Link looked away again, hoping that the horizon would give him an answer, but he didn't see any reason to lie. He turned back to her again and nodded.

She looked upset, “But why are you silent? Is it trauma?”

He shook his head.

“Your own choice?”

And again.

“Someone else’s choice?”

He nodded.

A massive roar sounded through the air as Vah Medoh breached the top of the reservoir, echoing through the valley where the Rito resided. Mipha watched him look at it move under Revali’s hands (wings?), and although he couldn't see the princess up there with him, he smiled like he could.

Gently, rain began to fall.

 

Link didn't _enjoy_ killing monsters, per say, but it was one of the less annoying parts of the job. He could go out ahead of the other champions, sword or bow or spear in hand and think about nothing but what was around the next corner. It was freeing, being away from the princess since that issue up on Rayne Highlands, near the shrine and the ancient columns, because when he was riding a head he could talk to himself, about things he was interested in, without anyone there to hear him.

“She didn't need an escort, but I’m not an escort. I’m the one person given the task to protect her. It doesn't matter if she’s intent on going alone. If I could let her go alone I would, but I couldn't have so I didn't. Why is she the embodiment of wisdom when she doesn't get that I was _forced to follow her.”_

He sighed, slouching and letting his head back so that he could look to the sky. The stupid blue tunic wasn't very good for stealth anyway, nor was the horse, so he didn't feel any need to hide himself from the potential monsters.

“It’s fair enough that she doesn't like me,” He reasoned, “Because she doesn't see me as ‘Link, the guy who is forced against his will to be some hero-wannabe’, she sees me as ‘Link, the guy who doesn't think that she can handle herself’. Like,” He moved his hands around, better explaining his argument with himself, “I have so many other qualities other than holding this dumb sword. I bet she’s never had seafood curry before, because all the people in the castle are apparently allergic to Goron spice. I can make curry. I can, I don't know, tame a wild horse, isn't that right Champion?” Link soothed his horse and came around another corner, trotting along happily together until they reached a suitable clearing to stay in for the night.

Link dismounted and began to untie the packs from Champion’s back, setting up a little fire pit and beginning to lay down the footprints for the tents. He knew that the others could handle themselves and the princess until they reached him, so he didn't bother going back for them.

Although he was no longer on the move, Link kept talking to Champion about his woes,  “And I can climb almost anything. She can point to it and I can climb it, even if it’s a Goron or something. That’s got to be a pretty impressive skill, I have no wings but I can get to the top of mountains just fine, I don't have fins but I can reach the top of a waterfall, and I’m not made of rocks but I can still reach the Goron town, albeit with a few burns, but still. If fire wasn't in my way then nothing could stop me.”

“Oh, Champion,” He said, rubbing his horse’s head with affection, parting it’s thick black mane so that he could actually see its eyes for once, “If you could understand me, would you be sympathetic, or be just like everyone else? You above anyone else know that I didn't ask for this, because you were there when I tried to put this darn thing back. Everyone says I’m the hero, and so does the sword, but I don't _feel like one,_ and isn't that half of what matters? The confidence to be a hero can make one, after all. I still can't look at lizalfos, I don't even want to think about lynels, and I dread the day the guard take me out to go against a hynox. Although, I have to admit, out of all of them the lizalfos is still the worst.”

He cupped the horse’s head in his hands; kissing its muzzle and then letting it go to begin the process of removing its saddle and such. He could hear the voices of the princess and her champions coming closer and he sighed, willing himself to stay quiet as the king had wished. After a moment they all appeared, with Mipha and Daruk saying hello and with Revali and the princess ignoring him. Link sighed but continued with what he was doing, thankful that he wasn't being forced to mess about trying to say stuff without words.

Sign language existed, he knew that much, but no-one had thought to organise him lessons, despite his many, uh, _strongly worded_ conversations with his lesson constructor, who seemed to focus more on the combat than the life skills. While combat was important, especially given the nature of his duties, it was still annoying that he didn't know all the proper mannerisms when it came to addressing the lords and ladies that were so fond of asking him hard questions, and even not knowing how to organise a material inventory in the way that the store-room keepers did.

A hand came to rest on his shoulder, and when Link looked up he came face-to-face with a certain Gerudo chief, whom was looking down on him with a not quite fond but also not quite cold look on her face. “A moment alone, please?” She asked, and Link almost went to reply with words before realising their company, so he nodded instead.

Urbosa lead them away from the encampment, still with her sword and shield at the ready but her body language warm and relaxed. She indicated for him to sit on a fallen log, which he did, putting him out of eyesight of the princess but not of the other champions. Urbosa didn't sit with him, but leant casually against another tree.

“I hear things aren't going well between you and our princess. I understand that you have been forced into this role, but that doesn't mean that you can treat her with hostility-”

“I’m not,” Link snapped, standing again but being careful not to let the others see him, “She doesn't understand that the king would _behead me_ if something happened to her. Escort means carriage, guards, and all manor of junk to be taken with her, but I’m not an escort. I don't have a choice but to follow her,” Link paused for a moment, breathing heavily. Urbosa didn't say anything and Link took it as a invitation to continue, “I haven't said a word to the princess since being appointed her knight, so she doesn't understand that if I had the option to leave her alone then I would! She’s smart, can use a bow, and knows how to saddle her own horse. The only reason why I’m here is because I just so happened to pick up a sword and the king doesn't have any faith in her.”

Urbosa considered this, looking over her nose at him, and then said, “If the princess was in danger would you save her life?”

“Yes.”

“Because if you didn't yours would be on the line?”

“What?! No! It doesn't matter if she’s a princess, or whatever, it’s because she’s a person!”

Link watched her contemplate him for a moment, rehearsing the conversation back in his head for a moment to make sure that he hadn't said anything wrong, but he came up blank when he thought about things that Urbosa could use against him. Although he wasn't sure _why_ she would want to use something against him, other than the fact that the Gerudo had some weird bias against men in their town, but he wasn't in their town, so what bias was there, if any?

She lowered her head a little, still looking at him from the side and said, “Although I disagree with your opinion on yourself, I can agree with your sentiment towards our shared causes. Yours is to protect the princess, and also your people, and mine are exactly the same. I’ll speak to Zelda about our conversation. That is, if she hasn't already heard.”

Link looked around the tree, finding all the other champions and Zelda staring at where Urbosa stood. They turned away, all but Daruk looking bashful, and he laughed at Urbosa’s own smile.

 

The Spring of Power gave frustration.

 

“Little guy, what do you _mean_ you're not the hero? You’ve got the sword, the will, the mediocre Hylian looks?”

Link ignored the comment about his looks and looked over to Daruk, watching as he brandished the still sheathed blade. He sighed at having to explain it again, but thankfully it wasn't through hand gestures alone because Zelda was in the other room.

“If I went into the castle, picked up the king’s crown and put it on my head, would I be the king of Hyrule?”

“No.”

“If I went into the castle, picked up the sword and swung it around a little, would I be the legendary hero? Obviously not, right?”

“I don't think swords and crowns work the same way, little guy.”

 

“I still don't get what those girls meant, papa. Why would a beard make a woman uncomfortable?”

“When you’re older, bud.”

“But I am older!”

“ _Older.”_

 

“The guardians don't take very well to being stood on,” Impa said, her whole demeanour making her look and feel a hundred years older than she might have actually been. Link had no idea how old she was, but she was fully able to walk and stand up straight, if that counted towards anything.

“Yes,” Princess Zelda said, now called princess for being in her brilliant blue dress, “We’ll have to remind Robbie of that when he comes to the castle next. Father didn't seem pleased at the hole where the ‘Hero of Winds’ portrait used to be.”

 

“The calamity is coming closer,” Zelda said, picking at the meal Link had made for them. In the low light of the fire Link could only vaguely see her face, noting the drooping eyes and slumped mouth. She sighed, shaky, and but another tentative mouthful into his mouth. “I am terrified, Link. What if the Spring of Wisdom doesn't give answers? Or gives nothing at all? Maybe I really am a failure-”

Link put down his bowl and shuffled closer to her, putting a hand on her arm in a sort of comfort that the princess rarely felt. She startled for a moment, looking at his hand, before putting her own completely freezing one on top.

“Thank you,” She said, voice not at all happier than before, “I… I am aware that you don't want- well, _this_ , either. My mother apparently spoke to your father before you were officially… integrated. It’s hard to think of a word for it, but regardless. He said that you didn't want this destiny. Is that correct?”

He wasn't used to having his past relayed back to him, but he still nodded at her. She sighed out a sort of laugh and lent into him, making him lean up a little straighter as her head came to rest on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Link, that my father thinks that he can force fate and destiny. If i had a choice between being a princess or being someone who in his eyes was less, I know which choice I would make. Do you have that? Everyone expecting so much but you're not actually sure that you can give it?”

He nodded again.

“Link,” She said, “When my father isn’t here I am the only one who is able to command you. I ask you to reply to me with your voice now, not you actions. If you had the option to give up the Master Sword, and could hand the blade off to another man, would you?”

The fire flared as Link tossed on another log, crackling when the wet bark gave way under the all-consuming heat. The frosty night air made a good contrast to the blisteringly hot days, but unfortunately in the desert it was always six of one and half a dozen of the other. In some ways this role he’d been forced into was the same.

It allowed him to explore more than he’d ever thought possible, see things that he had never dreamed of seeing, and let him make friendships that he valued more than any possession he’d ever come across. Though the positives were obvious, there were still the issues lying under the surface. Link, even though he drew the sword, didn't _feel_ like a hero. In his own eyes he was still just Link; a farm boy who happened to pick up a stick one day to smack a lizard, who helped someone who needed help, who just so happened to wander further out than he perhaps should have and found a cool sword.

“I-” his voice cracked. It had been fifteen days since he had used it last, and Zelda’s gaze snapped to him in an instant. He tried again, “I feel like I was just in the right place at the right time. There would be plenty of other people who would be willing to take the sword, but I don't think they know what comes with it: the dread, the expectations, and the fuss. I wouldn't wish that on anyone.”

She stared at him, thinking over the words before she turned back to the fire. “Yes,” She said, her voice wavering through her tears, “I don't suppose I would either. It’s unfair, forcing someone to live through a destiny that they don't know if they belong to. Maybe,” She wiped at her eyes with her sleeve, “Maybe that’s why this cursed power isn't coming to me. I can't force the power through prayer, and my father cannot force me through words. But Link, if I am not to find this power, what fate will wrack through Hyrule? What fate, if I cannot find mine, awaits in the shadows for us all?”

 

The Spring of Wisdom gave despair.

 

Glimpses.

Burning houses, screams, a horrible and unidentifiable sound, and wind through his blood-soaked hair.

“Get him… Shrine…”

His hand held nothing, feeling empty and cold. He grasped at something above him, feeling cloth.

“What,” He choked, coughing up ash and dirt.

Agony.

His bare feet grazed stone, but he was not let out of the person’s arms.

Another noise rung out like a bell, shaking the ground and air alike. Someone screamed.

Link opened his eyes to a smoke filled sky, watching the air turn red from fire. Fighting to keep them open, Link was blinded by his own tears. 

Failure.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end! (for now)  
> Jokes aside though, I'm impressed that I managed to finish a 20k+ fic within a week, and I fully intend to write another fic about Link's explorations through Hyrule after he wakes up from his lovely nap lol  
> If you could please let me know which features of this fic you liked best, be it any of the characters, locations, character quirks, or anything, please let me know! I'm keen to include them in the stories as reoccuring features (as you may have noticed with the lizards lol) and also plan on writing a sort of retelling of my own first experiences with the game.  
> Currently the next piece in the series stands at 2000 words, but the plan for the whole series spans around four pages of bullet points.
> 
> I really must thank you for reading, and i greatly appriciate all the lovely comments, kudos and bookmarks. I look forward to writing more for this fandom in the future :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading my first piece of 2019! I aim to produce as many chapters on this game as i can, and currently as i write this I have over 200 hours in game (and I havent even bought the DLC yet lol). Currently the document i am writing these pieces on has around 8000 words on it, so even if I dont finish it completely, you can expect up to five chapters. 
> 
> As always with my fics, please leave Kudos, comments and bookmarks, as they inspire me to write more. I really apriciate you reading and I hope you enjoyed it :)


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